The Shadow and the Six Crystals
by razz4499
Summary: Five years have passed since the War of the Ring. However, a new threat has arisen, and it seeks to rid this world by veiling it in shadow. Gandalf has returned to stop this menace, and on the way he reunites with his old allies...
1. Prologue: The Fourth Age

**PROLOGUE**

**The Fourth Age**

. . .**  
**

_Dark mist wakes in mountains high_

_Red flames flicker in moonless sky_

_Eyes of shadow from sea henceforth_

_From east to west, from south to north_

_. . .  
_

Five years have passed since Sauron's ruin, and from then on the Fourth Age of Middle-earth began. My quest to overthrow the Dark Lord has been fulfilled, and for the remains of my life I return to the Undying Lands to dwell the last of my years. Friendships across the sea back to the land I resided, for three hundred lives of men I breathed, were not broken; although parted it does not disconnect the bond held deep within our lasting souls.

I was accompanied back to the Undying Lands with the Elves and two halflings that were much dear to me: Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. How I've sent you on perilous quests and you end up becoming the heroes of such legends. May you dwell the last of your lives peacefully here in these lands. A leaf has turned; a new beginning we were to start.

. . .

Or how much I wished it could be this way. No more quests I was to carry out in this lifetime again. Save for one more...

The Elves wished this would never have occurred but we fear the worse for our world. A great cloud of black smoke has risen in the far East of Arda. It presses its way westward, and in its path lays Middle-Earth. This is no black blizzard created by weather. A supreme and powerful entity it has been since the birth of this world.

Dae - The Shadow, the Elves call it. And a shadow it is. Created by Morgoth, it slumbered in the East awaiting his downfall. Though when Sauron emerged, it thought he was to wait in vain; he'd never supplant their being, until its moment came at last. Since birth it had been residing in the east until their downfall. It watched in the distance with black lidless eyes, and smiled when the Dark Lords were defeated during the ages. It knew then that it had a chance to do what it wished. Loathing this world since the beginning, no desire is stronger for it than the destruction of Arda.

The Elves forgot of this entity, as it had been forsaken for millenniums. No Light of the Valar can cast any beam to banish the shadow, apart from its own children: six Crystal Shards. They have been scattered around Middle-Earth since the Years of the Trees. They are the only power that can counter the Shadow's.

The Elves could feel this power growing in the East of Arda. Because of their ignorance towards the evil, they fear the worse. Men, Dwarves and all the other free races know not of the malicious nebula creeping its way west, devouring the land in ash and shadow. No creature will be able to survive its destruction:

Oceans will dry, mountains will collapse, and the plains of the land will be veiled in black ruins along with towns and cities. Everything will perish. Though, the shadow moves gradually, and there is enough time to prevent the armageddon.

And so, as told by the Valar, I am the only worthy of the Istari to cast back the Shadow of the East. Let us hope that we find the six Crystal Shards before the Shadow reaches the West of Middle-Earth, and veil the world in shadow for eternity.

. . .

_Shadow blackens lands of green_

_Creeping west to eyes unseen_

_Forests flame and mountains fall_

_Here we await the end of all_

_. . .  
_


	2. Life In Hobbiton

**CHAPTER I**

**Life In Hobbiton**

As five years had passed since the turning of a new and bright age, many changes amongst folk in all corners of this land had occurred between the flourishing and birth of a hopeful future. Many abide in harmony, and wish greatly for peace to reside for eternity, and for no menace to arise to harass their peaceful nature again.

Who more so then for the small folk of the Shire? Hardy yet fun-loving people abide in the green hills under golden lit skies. Since the disturbance that had occurred within this serene country half a decade ago, the named Hobbits grew in stature and endurance, but yet peace was re-found amongst them, and they breathed contently under the warmth of a stouthearted warriors and leaders. Yet these three were all stout in their demeanour, and of one that had departed from these emerald lands and across the Great Sea.

The fields roll across the hillsides, and the sky watches them through the eye of the golden star. The forests sway in the summer breeze; a warm glide of refreshing air. Daisies and dandelions and buttercups veil the green blades of grass upon the vast fields, and their yellow colours have the meadows appear like great golden lakes upon a blue background. The scent of spring flowers fill the air, and the singing of the birds whistle through the wind. A beautiful, graceful land full of green and life amongst woodland and clearings. The Shire; harmony for all halflings, a province of contentment and serenity.

. . .

Walking down the main road of the sleepy village, ere the sun high in the heavens, strolled a Hobbit with a content look upon his face. He walked along New Row, and ascended the hill, which outlooked the town below. A grand view of the party field and the dwellings beneath the hill. He reached the top to the hobbit hole known as Bag End. He opened the little fenced gate, and closed it behind him. He trailed up the pathway towards a round green wooden door, where he was greeted by a friendly face.

'Morning,' said a kind voice. There stood at the doorway a woman with golden locks. She gave him a warmhearted smile. He returned another in affection.

'Morning,' he greeted, and he entered through the door into the tunnel-like hallway. The Hobbit was known none other than Samwise Gamgee, and his wife Rosie Cotton.

'Where did you wander off to?' asked Rosie as Sam hung his coat on the stand.

'I had some errands to attend to down in the town. Sorry I left so early.' He gave her a small kiss on the cheek. Sam strolled along the halls into the kitchen. He sat himself down around the table. Rosie followed.

'It's quite alright,' she said. 'Although you missed something spectacular earlier.'

'What may that be?' asked Sam, sounding slightly interested.

'Rose took her first steps two hours ago.' Rose was their youngest child, born only almost a year ago. So far they had three children: Elanor, their first, and Frodo, their second, named after Frodo Baggins, Sam's dearest friend who departed to the west a while after the turn of the Fourth Age.

When Sam heard of this glorious information, he seemed rather dismayed. 'Oh, and I missed it!' he sighed, disappointed on missing out on a wondrous advance of growth. 'All so sorry, much so sorry,' he said to Rosie. 'I wish I could have seen it.'

'I'm sure you may again in due time,' she said, going about her daily chores around the kitchen. Sam then peered out the round window to his side, and looked upon the great green country. Clouds passed across the golden sun with grace, and her rays beamed down onto the land with a comforting warmth.

Sam sighed. 'Although they'd be her second steps,' he said after returning from his reverie. 'I wish I hadn't left so I could have seen it.'

Rosie then handed Sam a steaming cup of tea, and she sat herself down opposite of him. She smiled. 'A special occasion is occurring down the Green Dragon tonight,' she informed whilst Sam took a careful sip of his beverage.

Once he placed it upon the table, he asked: 'And what may that be for?'

'The coming of Spring,' she said contently. She arose and stepped towards the window. 'Five years for we have been in the new age,' she said, and she turned to face her husband. 'An anniversary.'

'Are you going?' he asked her.

She shook her head. 'Probably not. It is after Rose's bedtime. I have to tend to the children.' She paused. 'You could go and take a glimpse if you like?'

Sam thought for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and creased his face. 'I dunno,' he said. 'I might do,' he did rather fancy a visit to the local tavern, although the mirth within its walls would be rowdy and vigorous. Although he'd rather a peaceful and calm night without any such disturbance from the zealous locals, being involved in celebrations was one thing a hobbit couldn't cast aside. Then he made up his mind. 'I will. But just for a glimpse.'

. . .

It was eight o'clock during nightfall, and the blazing sun had set underneath the curved fields; slumbering until morning light. It was a clear, warm spring evening with many diamond stars and great silver moon waxing. There was no sound save for the chirping of the crickets by the waterfront and the pass of a soft breeze across the meadows.

Other than nature playing her earthly melodies, another sound of mirth clashed with hers. Its source came from Bywater; down by the riverside and across the bridge, amongst a gathering of wooden dwellings. Lights, as bright as fireflies, shone through the windows, and a smoke arose from the chimneys. Although Bywater had been attacked half a decade ago, the area had been replenished as though no disaster had struck this area before.

The music was lively and enthusiastic, with fiddles and flutes and drums amongst the rowdy laughs and cheers and gossip of the locals. The uproar could be heard rolling along the hills, though not many were to hear it from miles away, as they were ones that accompanied the ruckus. Some Hobbits gathered along outside, frolicking joyful along the waterside. Some slurred words, and joined with unintelligent songs that once could not hear the lyrics unless they were familiar with the tune.

Inside, however, was where the merriment was great. Many people gathered around the tables in the tavern of the Green Dragon, sharing news and gossiping of events that have or are or will occur around the area. They grasped onto their mugs and downed their beverages in celebration. And on top of a table, where most of the goers gathered and cheered, were two greatly enthusiastic Hobbits celebrating vigorously by frolicking and dancing and singing upon the table to the melody of the music:

_'You can search far and wide,_

_You can drink the whole town dry,_

_But you'll never find a beer so brown_

_(But you'll never find a beer so brown)_

_As the one we drink in our home town,_

_(As the one we drink in our home town)_

_You can drink your fancy ales!_

_You can drink em by the flagon!_

_But the only brew for the brave and true..._

_Comes form the Green Dragon!'_

And at the moment they ended their song they cheered, knocked mugs together and downed their drinks. The people gathered clapped and laughed and rooted the two Halflings. And once they emptied their mugs they hopped off the table and slumped onto the chairs.

'Ah! A splendid night for merrymaking!' said the first Hobbit.

'Aye, I'm with you on that one!' laughed the second, and they both chuckled with delight. Then once they ceased their laughter, the first Hobbit placed his drink upon the table and smiled.

'Just think: five years ago was the spring of the old age. Now we live in the new one. A new leaf has turned for a bright future we hobbits can undergo!'

'Aye!' cheered the Hobbit in reply, who was in fact Peregrin Took, and his cousin Meriadoc Brandybuck. Once known for their mischievous and childish demeanour, were now acknowledged as stouthearted (yet still hold their past mannerisms). Tallest among their kind, they were, and none other were as tall as they.

'No trouble is brewing hopefully for us Shirefolk,' said Merry. 'Five years: no threat, no problem, just serenity abides here now.'

'Perhaps they know better than to mess with us Hobbits!' assumed Pippin greatly.

'I'll drink to that!' and they both served up another round of ale.

Just then, at the doorway, Samwise entered and observed his surroundings. He felt warm knowing everyone was enjoying themselves and celebrating with much gaiety. Merry saw him at the corner of his eye, and he then he jumped up onto his chair.

'Ah! Samwise Gamgee has entered!' he proclaimed loudly. 'Welcome, fellow Hobbit,' he took a bow, 'to this great celebration!'

Sam, however, just rolled his eyes and sat down beside them. 'Everyday's a celebration to you two. What difference does it make?'

'More festive spirit!' said Pippin.

'Aye!' said Merry, and they chugged down another round.

'Trust a Brandybuck and a Took,' mumbled Sam, so it was inaudible to the two cousins.

Merry jumped down next to Sam, and placed an arm around his shoulder. 'So what you up for? An ale? Beer?... Wine?'

'None for me, thank you,' replied Sam. 'I'm not planning on staying for so long.'

'Must return home to the Mrs. and the little ones?' said Pippin, sitting by the left of Sam.

Sam nodded, 'Yes. I'm not planning on 'drinking the whole town dry' when I have a family to tend to.'

'Why you here then?' asked Merry. Sam noticed the duo were already quite tipsy on their beverages.

'To see the festivities,' answered Sam, now looking around at the celebration under the roof.

'And jolly they be!' exclaimed Merry arising onto his feet.

'Aye!' said Pippin, and they knocked their mugs together once again. It was then the Hobbit noticed an allurement at the corner of his eye. Merry then followed his gaze, and gave a teasing smile to his cousin.

'See someone you like, Pip?'

Pippin chuckled, breaking his gaze from a woman across the corner of the tavern who one seemed to take a fancy to. 'What makes you think that?'

'Ah! The apple of your eye, she be,' teased Merry.

Before his cousin could continue pestering him, he quickly shouted: 'Enough chit-chatter! On with the celebration!'

'And I will drink to that!' said Merry, seeming to forget the little nudge before. They downed many rounds of ale and other bitter, continuing to make a ruckus. _You'd think they'd have grown up by now_, thought Sam, _Still the same as they were_.

'I'm going to head off now,' he then said aloud, so that Merry and Pippin could hear him amid the hoopla of the tavern.

'But you just got here!' said Pippin, quite upset at Sam's sudden leaving.

'Yes, but as I said: I ain't planning on staying,' he arose from his seat and made his way towards the door. 'Just taking a glimpse,' he muttered, and he was gone.

'Ah, don't mind him, Pip,' said Merry, lifting the mood. 'Let us go for another round!'

'Aye, alright,' smiled Pippin, and the duo made their way towards the counter, continuing their merrymaking amongst the crowd.


	3. An Old Friend Returns

**CHAPTER II**

**An Old Friend Returns**

Midnight cast its shadow across the land. The merriment down the waterside had died down, and the event was coming to an end. Upon the party field the following afternoon was to be a festival for celebration, as tonight's occasion was only the first taste of a jubilation amongst the Halflings. The misty grey clouds veiled the silver light of the great moon. The stars shrouded by their darkness weaving; but the chill of night's breeze glided past all tree and fern. Everyone who had participated in tonight's jolly celebration left the tavern with smiles on their faces. Some stumbled, others laughed at the ones stumbling. Though the atmosphere was pleasant, and all could return to their holes knowing the night had rolled by with mirth.

The duo wobbled out of the doorway and outside in the open. They continued to share their laughter with some jokes and gossiping. Yet they had a journey to tread back to Crickhollow; their abode for the time passing. Holding eachother up from tumbling face first onto the hard ground, they enjoyed a lengthy travel home, breaking nature's silence by their rowdy behaviour. Although quite intoxicated by their beverages, they had the conscious to return to their home without any trouble. Apart from a little loss of footing up the pathway towards their house, and a little snicker at that, they made it home without any injuries or mischief. They chuckled and frolicked as they entered their home. Still the party spirit was strong within them. As they settled down from their enthusiastic prancing about-the-room, Merry let out a long sigh.

'What's the time?' he asked his cousin from down the hallway.

'I'm guessing an hour after midnight,' answered Pippin.

'Alright,' said Merry, who was preparing to hang his coat upon the stand, until then he stopped his action. A thought crossed his mind at that moment. He was considering, but ere midnight had fallen, and it was late. However, to drain away the ale within his system, he had come to a conclusion. 'I think I might take a little walk, Pip,' he said to his cousin.

'What?' asked Pippin, his head popping out from behind the corner. 'You're taking a walk now? Usually it's not so late. It has gotten chilly since twilight.'

Merry shrugged his shoulders, laid-back from Pippin's words. 'Oh well,' he said, 'A little walk hurts no one. I won't stray too far. Anyway, don't lock me out, alright?' Peregrin made an impish grin, an idea crossing his mind. He made it obvious to Merry, and the Hobbit cocked an eyebrow.

'You'd better not, anyway.'

'I won't,' smiled the Hobbit. 'Just don't be too long. I don't want to find you've fallen asleep in the wood or so.'

Merry chuckled, 'I doubt that'll happen,' and he put back on his dark green coat, walked out the door and disappeared in the darkness.

. . .

There had not been many threats around these parts for at least over three lengthy years, since a group of wolves were sighted near Brandywine. No harm came to those who laid their eyes upon the feral canines, and the wolves left without even attempting to seek to strike at the cattle or the sheep nearby.

All was silent, all was shrouded in hush upon hill, forests and river. Although the darkness accompanied the lingering silence, there was no known peril surrounding the area. Although oblivious to much a much greater threat that was pressing its way westward, to all dwelling within the Shire thought peace would reside within these lands, and nothing was to change that. Not even the greyest of rainclouds could dampen their spirits, and no frost could bite at their joy. Greatly unknowing there way, even if the worse of storms they could endure, for what menace they may be soon to face would destroy their barricade effortlessly, and all the wonder and bliss would perish. All shall fade...

He strolled along the edge of the Old Forest, not daring to even go a step near its roots. Daunting it already appeared in broad daylight, and the shadows of night increased its menace vastly, like a black wall of no returning. He buried his hands his coat pockets, and trailed along the path, listening to nature's melody, that had finally broken the surviving hush. A wind whistled across the leaves, and the silhouettes of the wood swayed against the dim light of the silver moon. A sudden chill went down Merry's spine, although it was of the bitter breeze rather than a sense of nerves. He eyed the entrance of the forest with caution; pleasant it was not, discouraging and ominous however it remained. The occasional hoot of owl and the chirping of the crickets near the river were all that was heard save the frequent flight of wind nipping the tips of his ears. It was cold, and almost pitch black apart from the faint glow of the fireflies at the warm light of nearby Newbury. However, he continued to stroll along the path, which meandered towards the forest. Merry paid no heed towards it, for the trees shielded him from the piercing wind. He progressed his mental path near the edge of the Old Forest, and hopefully would not stumble astray into the bowels of this vast wood, and fall lost to the menace of the wood.

As he trailed along the narrow footpath obscured by the canopies of the wood, he heard stirring not so far from where he ambled. He stopped, and listened, and pricked up his pointy ears. The leaves rustled in the undergrowth; the sound of them crunching and crumpling on the ground.

He was greatly curious, and was motivated into inspecting the source of the sound. The path in front of his eyes was darkened, but he examined with sound rather than sight. It seemed to come from his right. He hunched down low and tiptoed towards the bushes. He lowered himself and knelt behind a blackened fern. He carefully pushed the leaves aside so he could see past into the wood.

There was a dim white speckle upon black scenery. It shuffled from left to right. Merry squinted to focus on the form. It appeared hazeley to be a creature.

_A white stag?_ No, he thought. _A wolf?_ I hope not. _A person?_ Possibly. The figure was tall - roughly man-sized. It held something long a thing in its hand. Merry guessed then the figure was a man dressed in white. A man dressed all in white, he thought, and the appearance of this man seemed strangely familiar.

He continued gazing and watching this person's every move. Sometimes the man bent down to pick something from the floor, and other times he wandered around as though looking for something that was lost. It was then the man groaned under his breath. It was a deep, raspy sort of groan, as though the man was irritated. Merry cocked his head to the side_. This figure seems very familiar_, he thought.

It was then when the man lifted the long, thin object in his hand and arose it into the air. The object illuminated the area with a dim white light, revealing a clearing amongst the enclosing trees. The man was blurred in Merry's sight, and the light blinded his eyes, having him recoil from its bright glow. He squinted through the light, shielding his eyes from its luminosity. The figure was revealed slightly then:

The man was clothed in long white robes, and he had long white hair to his over his shoulders accompanied by a long white beard. In his hand appeared to be a long white stick, and then Merry knew. He thought he knew, but he was unsure whether his mind was playing tricks on him, and the light was messing with his sight. However, he mumbled what he thought was the name of this man under his breath. Then, when he was certain, he said it louder.

'Gandalf?' he called.

The man rapidly turned around and dimmed the light of what was a staff. His azure eyes looked upon the bushes and he faintly saw a little spectator hidden in the ferns. The man's face was then completely unveiled, and Merry made one very large smile, and his blue eyes twinkled with great delight.

'It is!' he cried with much joy. 'Gandalf!'

Gandalf seemed to frown at the Hobbit, and then mumbled under his breath so it wasn't audible: 'Luck is not with me this night.'

Merry hopped out from the bushes and scurried over to meet the White Wizard. He was considerably excited, and very much surprised. 'My!' he gasped in awe. 'What are you doing here? You left for the Undying Lands. How come you're back?' He said very quickly, refusing to stop for breath.

'Not so hasty with questions, Meriadoc,' said Gandalf, gesturing for the Hobbit to calm. He did so, and his beam lowered into a friendly smile.

'Apologies,' he said, with a sheepish look on his face. Then his mirth picked up again. 'But, my! It's wonderful to see you! I wasn't expecting a reunion with you again.'

'And nor I with you,' said the wizard, leaning on his staff.

'How come your back? Were you not to give greetings to us?' Gandalf's brow furrowed. Merry felt diffident for a moment. 'Sorry again with the questions but, this is so unexpected!'

'For both of us perhaps,' said Gandalf, 'But I'm not to linger here for long.' Gandalf then turned and continued to do what he was before Merry jumped out from the bushes and startled him. He knelt down and fiddled with a few items; seeming to be rocks. Merry didn't pay any attention to them, and stood by the wizard's side like an excited child.

'How long have you been back?' he asked with a childish grin on his face.

'Almost a week,' answered Gandalf, who continued to examine the stones.

'Have Frodo and Bilbo returned too?'

'No, they have not.'

Merry's smile dropped slightly. 'Then how come you've returned and yet they have not?'

Gandalf looked then at the Hobbit. 'Because they have no business to attend to back in this part of the world.' Then he turned to continue.

'How is that?' asked the Hobbit curiously; never seeming to run out of questions. Gandalf noticed this too, and he grumbled and arose onto his feet, towering over the hobbit effortlessly. He gave a firm yet annoyed look at the halfling.

'Merry, if you keep asking me questions I will seal your mouth shut so that you may not ever come to ask tedious inquiries again.'

Merry seemed quite daunted by this warning, and he lowered his eyes in slight guilt. 'Sorry. I won't ask anymore.'

'Good,' said the Wizard, kneeling down once again. 'Give me peace. Return to your home.'

'Why?' exclaimed Merry, completely forgetting the Wizard's warning.

Gandalf glared at the Hobbit. 'Merry, what did I just say?'

'But you just got here!' interrupted the Hobbit. 'Why not accompany back to Crickhollow? Perhaps for some food?' he observed to see if he was interested. 'Some ale?' the Wizard didn't reply. 'Smoke?'

Then Gandalf sighed. 'No thank you, Meriadoc.'

Merry put his hands on his hips and gazed at the wizard. 'Did you really think you could come to Hobbiton and slip past your old friends?'

'As a matter of fact, I did,' said Gandalf.

Merry then dropped his arms. 'Please come back!' he begged, seeming like a child in need of company. 'We have so many stories to share, so many tales to tell. Tell us of what the land across the sea is like? If Frodo and Bilbo are in good health, and how the Elves are?'

Gandalf faltered in his duty, and he cocked an eyebrow at the Hobbit. There was curiosity and searching within his eyes, and corner of the wizard's mouth creased into a little smile. 'A curious little one you have become,' he then arose, towering over him like a majestic figure. 'I suppose I cannot free myself from your countless questions, so I may as well answer them.' Merry smirked, seeming triumphant in a way. 'Very well, Meriadoc, I shall accompany you back to Crickhollow. However,' said Gandalf suddenly before Merry jumped with utmost joy, 'only for a short time, for I must ride east as time has reduced.'

Merry tilted his head to the side, not seeming to fathom. 'Time has reduced for what?' he asked curiously.

'I cannot say at this time,' replied Gandalf firmly. He gestured for the Hobbit to start walking, and they both strolled back onto the path, which was now illuminated by Gandalf's staff. They made their way towards the edge of the forest, and it was much easier with a light guiding the way for the two of them.

'So how are Frodo and Bilbo?' asked Merry, breaking the long silence.

'In good health,' answered the Wizard.

'That's good to hear,' then his voice turned solemn. 'Sam still greatly misses him; it really did feel as though a fragment of his soul had parted. Although, he has a loving family whom he loves dearly, and not to mention he may soon become a mayor.'

Gandalf smiled warmly with delight. 'It is wonderful to hear Samwise Gamgee is living life whole.'

Merry nodded in agreement. 'It is. Me and Pippin may not be living life wholly, but we are contented.'

'How is Peregrin?' asked Gandalf.

'Well,' replied to Hobbit, slightly vaguely. However, it delighted the wizard.

'I'm pleased to hear.' They had made it out into the clearing, and found themselves back upon the road. They headed south, and Gandalf let dim his light now the moon helped brighten the area with a faint blue.

'I'm still greatly curious as to know why you've returned. Once we reach Crickhollow please, do tell.' Gandalf did not reply, or said a word in fact, he just mumbled under his breath. Uncomfortable it was, and yet were the Hobbits soon to acknowledge why the Wizard was uneasy.


	4. The Shadow of the East

**CHAPTER III**

**The Shadow of the East**

All was veiled in darkness. The moon hid herself behind the creeping clouds, and the stars paled beneath their shadow. The wind had died down, and all was still far and wide. They continued under dim light towards Crickhollow, and the trees enclosed upon the dwelling. A small amber light flickered from within. It was welcoming, and gave a feeling of warmth to the both of them. They proceeded towards the door, turned the door handle and advanced inside. _I'm glad you didn't lock the door, Pip, _thought Merry, _otherwise I'd have been shaking like a leaf out here til dawn._

Merry hung his COAT up upon the stand, and Gandalf rested his staff near the entrance way. He crouched low to avoid knocking his head upon the ceiling. They crept into the hallway to their right as quietly a mouse, to avoid a disturbance for one may have been drifting in deep sleep in the bedrooms, or, to both Merry's and Gandalf's amusement, on the kitchen table. Pippin's head was resting upon the wooden table, his head buried inside a half open book. There was a now cold cup of tea beside him, and Merry guessed his cousin had been attempting to keep his eyes awake til he returned home. Only the weight of weariness had gotten the best of the now slumbering Hobbit.

'Well, indeed,' whispered Gandalf with a hint of amusement. Merry let out a silent chuckle at the Wizard's comment. Suddenly, a mischievous grin crossed his face. He scrambled towards a bookshelf, and pulled out the thickest and heaviest tome he could find. He silently crept towards the table. Gandalf arose an eyebrow at the Hobbit, and shook his head.

'Hobbits,' he mumbled to himself.

Merry arose the great book near the end of the table. Then, with a little snicker, he let the tome plummet with a great **BANG **upon the table. Pippin's eyes darted wide open, and he let out a cry of both shock and alarm. He frantically looked about him, wondering what on earth had just happened. After his head-rush calmed, he peered up at his cousin, leaning on the edge of the table, with the largest and most devilish grin upon his face.

Pippin leered at him. 'Give me a heart-attack, why don't you!' he yelled. 'Don't _ever _do that again!

'The temptation was too difficult to cast aside,' laughed Merry, and he returned both books back upon the shelf. Now that Pippin was wide awake, and still a wave of shock was running through him, he peered up near the doorway, where a face he once knew smiled at him. Pippin rubbed his eyes, thinking he was still in deep dreams.

'Gandalf?' he gasped.

'Hello, Peregrin,' he greeted warmly.

'Gandalf!' the Hobbit hopped up from his seat and ran over towards the crouching wizard. 'Oh my! It's wonderful to see you again,' and he gave a him a loving hug of utmost joy. 'How come you're back?' he asked once released the wizard from his embrace. 'You went across the Sea five years ago.'

'He didn't answer that question to me, Pip,' said Merry, pouring a kettle of boiling water into a cup of tea leaves. 'No point in trying to ask him again.'

'You're not to tell us why you've returned?' asked Pippin, seeming rather confused. Gandalf walked over and took a seat around the table.

'In all honesty it is not on my part to tell of why I have returned,' he said.

'Oh please, tell of why?' begged Pippin, taking a seat next to him.

The Wizard sighed. 'There is a task I am to carry out,' he answered darkly. The Hobbits noticed it from the tone of his voice and the grave expression upon his aged face.

'And what might that be exactly?' asked Merry, bringing over three cups of steaming tea onto the table. He sat himself down opposite the grim-looking Wizard.

'I really should not say,' he said to them with great concern.

'Whatever it is you're doing, we promise it won't be spread about the Shire if its that secret,' assured Pippin.

'Hmph,' the Wizard grumbled, 'Very well: A menace has appeared in the east of Arda. It presses its way westward towards the rest of the world.'

The Hobbits exchanged startled gazes. 'A menace?' asked Merry with deep concern. 'What kind of menace?'

'A wall of great Shadow,' Gandalf's eyes darkened. 'Like a black blizzard, but with a mind of its own.'

'So it's like a sandstorm?' asked Pippin rather loudly. Merry gestured for his friend to lower his tone, and he returned an apologetic look to the both of them.

'Although it is not created in the arid deserts of the south, and it is not the work of weather.'

'What exactly is this Shadow?' asked Merry curiously.

Gandalf's expression was dour and shadowed. 'The Elves call it Dae,' he said slowly. 'It was an entity created by Melkor himself. Whether it is an Maiar, Valar or of similar being is unsure. It acted as a support for when Morgoth and his followers fall,' the candle-lights around them flickered, and shadows loomed across the walls and floors. 'Born from hatred, it waits in the corner of the world. It remained near the far east of Arda until the ruin of Morgoth. The beasts and Maiar, his disciples in which he corrupted and created, were the only obstacles for this Shadow to do its duty.'

'Does anyone know of this Shadow?' asked Pippin quietly, breaking an awkward and chilling silence.

'The Valar and very few Maiars,' answered Gandalf. 'The Elves sensed some evil growing in the east but did not think much of it; they may have thought it was but the last of Sauron's forces, who are now very few. I was told by the Valar of the Shadow. They wish me to stop it.' There was yet another prolonged and ominous hush, and the candlelit shadows continued to dance, and the wind howled across the roof of the dwelling.

'What happens if you can't? asked Merry, lest the foreboding presence inside the room lingered. 'What happens if it reaches this part of Middle-earth?'

Gandalf's eyes lowered, and pale his face turned then. 'Then there will be no life anymore,' spiritless his voice was, and even the Hobbits felt the despair. 'This is the apocalypse; the beginning to end Arda forever. Nothing can escape this Shadow. Rivers and lakes will dry, mountains will collapse, plains will darken and cities will fall. It will choke everyone in its path. No more beauty, no grace, no life. All that was once green and good in this world will be gone.' The visions of what Gandalf told was heartbreaking and agonizing. Their hearts felt heavy, and their stomachs churned.

'But,' whispered Pippin sadly, 'there must be some way to stop it?'

'Yes, Peregrin, there is.' The Hobbit's spirits seemed lifted, and they both gazed at the wizard in hopefulness. 'There is still hope lingering. The Valar created an item powerful enough to counter the Shadow - six Crystal Shards. They were separated, and scattered across this part of Middle-earth during the Years of the Trees. They have been found during the ages, and most are in safe hands - such as I,' he rummaged through his robes and took out two white stones, 'Here are two of them; the other four I know of.' The Halflings gazed at this minute crystals. They seemed more grey than white with the dim lighting of the room.

'What happens when they're all together?' asked Merry, refusing to break the gaze with the lifeless stones.

'Nobody knows,' he answered honestly. 'Nobody has witnessed its power.'

Pippin's face creased then. 'Then how do you know it'll work?'

'I don't know,' now hope seemed to fade. 'But by all means it's worth the try. Their purpose for being is for this moment. This is what they were created for. I seek to find them all and combine them before the Shadow reaches here.'

'How fast does the Shadow move?' asked Merry.

'Not swift at all,' he answered, 'but because it is slow it doesn't mean it is not dangerous. There is still time, and I must make haste to these locations as fast as possible.' He took a sip of his tea. The others copied; feeling first hint of warmth inside of them for a matter of minutes.

'Where is your next destination?' asked Pippin, setting the tea down.

'I ride for Rivendell once I can. Lord Elrond told me that one of the Shards was found during the beginning of the Third Age by the Elves, and they kept it safe in Rivendell. So now I must hurry and acquire it.'

'Are you going alone?'

'Yes, Merry, I am travelling by myself. I've managed to acquire two of them. I am capable of obtaining the other four on my own.'

'But what if you can't?' asked Pippin. 'What if something happens to you and you can no longer go on?'

'You must need some assistance in this?' added Merry.

Gandalf arose an eyebrow. 'Are you suggesting you accompany me on this quest?'

'Well,' began Merry at length, scratching the back of his head, 'yes. That is, if you don't mind us alongside of you?'

'One of the last things I want to do is drag you both into this,' he said sternly. 'It is not some mere adventure that has no consequence,' he shook his head. 'I am sorry, my lads, but drawing you both into this is not among the wisest ideas.'

'Why not?' asked Pippin, rather dismayed.

'Firstly one of you may end up getting hurt. And secondly, because I said so.'

'Then what if we end up getting hurt?' exclaimed Meriadoc with a frown upon his face. 'We'd rather die doing something good then doing nothing at all.'

'Well you're looking on the bright-side, aren't you?' Pippin muttered under his breath. Gandalf gazed into the Hobbit's eyes. A sense of eagerness and demand kindled in his pupils.

'Are you saying, Meriadoc Brandybuck, you'd risk your life to aid me on my quest?'

'Of course,' he answered. 'I mean, we've journeyed before, how much has changed since then?'

'Much,' replied the wizard with emphasis. 'And I know of how well you've served during the War of the Ring, but this is an even greater peril than that.'

'But please,' Merry began to plead, 'can we just accompany you?' There was a drawn-out silence after his imploring inquiry. All Gandalf could do was let his gaze stray from corner to corner; his mind deep in thought and choice. Peregrin leaned on the table, waiting for either one of them to utter any word, just to tear away this cumbersome atmosphere. 'Look,' began Merry finally. 'We're able enough to do something like this. Knowing our world is in peril makes us wish to help with all we can. We've changed since before the War, honest. You know so yourself,' there was confidence in his tone, and Gandalf noticed it. 'And if you let us join you then we vow to stand beside you until this quest is done, finished or unfinished, whether it leads us to triumph or defeat...'

The ambiance was heavy after Merry ended his words. A gust of whistling wind passed on by outside, and still the candles glimmered, casting shadows upon every surface. Momentarily, after when seemed almost an eternity, Gandalf sighed. 'You are young reckless hobbits, aren't you?' he said. 'Very well, Merry, you have my word. You and Pippin may join me on this quest. And I know that you've changed, and I know that you're able. I just don't want to be the one responsible for what happens to you.'

'Well you don't have to,' said Pippin. 'I'm sure we'll be fine.'

'I'm sure you will, but it's quite unlikely. However,' he rose from the chair, 'you'd best be ready for this then.'

The Hobbits smiled. 'When do we leave then?' asked Pippin.

'At once,' he answered firmly. 'Gather your belongings and all you need. Ride your steeds alongside mine. We cannot stall in this dire time of need.'

The Hobbits, without any reluctance, obeyed his command and rushed around the room. Another adventure these reckless Halflings were to embark, although the Wizard was anxious about his rash decision. _Have I made the right choice? _he asked himself. Company would be satisfying to cast away the shadow of solitude. Unsettled he was for these two to assist him on his quest, yet he hoped he will not come to regret his volition later upon the journey.


	5. Setting Out

**CHAPTER IV**

**Setting Out**

Dawn was approaching, yet the morning was young. Pale black were the skies, and the moon sunk beneath the canopies of the forest nearby. Beyond in the east the sun was waking, and soon she'd peek her golden head out from the horizon and once again watch the world below her rays.

Inside, the candles dimmed the shadows danced. In one of the round rooms the two Hobbits were gathering and packing all they thought they'd need upon the oncoming journey they were to embark. They rushed around from room to room, collecting all the items they knew they'd need. They arranged them upon tables, and set their belongings away from the others.

It was then when Meriadoc opened a slightly large wardrobe, where a set of armour was neatly laid out. Leather and iron and hints of silver and gold decorated the outfit. At its side was a helmet tinted with browns, golds and greens, and folded nicely next to it was a green cloak with a leaf for a brooch. Merry sighed. 'I wouldn't come to think I'd wear this again.'

'Neither did I, actually,' said Pippin, gently placing upon the table more provisions. 'Do you think we should take it though?'

'It'd be best,' said Merry, and he took hold of the helmet, fiddling with the strap. 'I'm sensing there would be perils around many corners,' he then lowered it onto the table. 'Always wise to be armoured and ready.'

He then brought out the armour, and laid it on another table next to an outfit belonging to Peregrin. It was blue as late night, and sewn upon the torso was a tree surrounded by seven stars, and a crown upon the top. And next to the outfit lay a silver helmet; the citadel helmet of Minas Tirith. Pippin picked up the helmet and examined it.

'Brings back memories,' he said quietly.

'I agree,' and Merry pulled out an iron shield, and placed it next to his possessions.

'Have we got everything we need?' asked Pippin.

'Um, let's see,' he began to point at all the items upon the tables: 'Armour, food, swords, pipe-weed, cloaks, that and that... Yeah, I think we've got all that we really need.'

'Good,' Pippin put back down the helmet. 'We're riding to Rivendell, aren't we?'

'Yup, Pip, we are,' then he made his way towards the door. 'I'll head over and fetch the ponies; first time they're to embark upon a mission since the return.'

'And us too,' said Pippin.

Merry nodded. 'And us too,' and then he left.

A few moments later, footsteps trailed down the hallway. Out from the corner appeared Gandalf, ducking low through the doorway. 'Are you all set?' he asked Peregrin.

'Pretty much,' he answered. 'We've basically packed provisions we'd know we'd need.'

'And what of these?' he indicated at the two outfits set neatly upon the table, accompanied with two cloaks, two diverse helmets and two short blades sheathed in their scabbards. 'I remember you wearing that,' he said, pointing at the silver tree sewn upon the citadel garb.

Pippin walked over, and glancing upon the clothing his mind wandered back into memory. 'Back when I was under the service of Denethor,' it seemed more he spoke to himself rather than to the wizard. 'It seems almost a lifetime ago,' he looked up at Gandalf. 'Are we to head to Minas Tirith again? What exactly is the plan?'

He let out a low mumble, and then sat himself down an a nearby stool .'We pass out of the Shire, and there we take the road past Bree and Weathertop-'

'Weathertop,' whispered Pippin suddenly. 'That night still sends shivers down my spine,' and to memorize the encounter those years ago sent another one to remind him of the terror.

'There is no threat on your trail anymore, Peregrin,' assured the Wizard. 'No Ringwraiths to worry of.'

'I'm glad,' whispered the Hobbit. Then once his mind strayed far from the memory, and continued in asking: 'Where after that, then?'

'Then we enter Rivendell,' continued the Wizard, 'and acquire the next Shard. Until then, I shall tell you where we next must journey.' Pippin was beginning to pack many items in bags and pouches as he listened to the plan. It was then a thought came to him, and a curious question he wished to ask. 'Where did you get those two Shards from, Gandalf?' Gandalf then rummaged through his robes, and held out one of the white stones. It was small, about the same size as the palm of his hand. Although the other was slightly larger. They were not all similar in size and shape, and came in a variety.

'The first I obtained from the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains,' he said. 'After I landed back at the Grey Havens I rode towards the mountains, for I knew it had been discovered by them in the early Third Age. I went in and spoke of what business I had, and told them of the Shard they had acquired. However, they said: "If it is of much importance to one such as yourself, then valued it remains to us, and therefore we will not sell it without any of the same value as that."'

'So what did you do?' asked the Hobbit, abandoning his packing and hopping up upon the table, deeply intrigued in Gandalf's tale.

'I knew the Dwarves would be stubborn,' the Wizard resumed, 'so I had already prepared for such a situation. Back in the Undying Lands, I asked Frodo for an item he bore upon his journey to Mordor - the Mithril Vest.'

'You gave that away?' asked the Hobbit in slight surprise. 'Mithril is greatly treasured, isn't it?'

'Definitely to the Dwarves,' nodded the Wizard. 'I didn't want to give it away but, then again, what would the world rather: to keep an item that can only save one, or to gain an item that can save many?'

Hearing that, instantly Pippin knew, and he nodded solemnly. 'You're right.'

'So I had to haggle. I showed them the Mithril Vest and they ogled at its shimmering beauty. And with it I added precious stones and jewelry fit for a king. The bargain was settled, and they handed me the Shard in trade with these items. Once I had possession of it, I rode to my next destination,' the Wizard paused, 'The Shire.'

'The Shard was here?' the Hobbit sounded startled.

'Umhm,' mumbled the Wizard. 'I knew it was in the Shire, but that was all. I didn't know where it was. But recently, I had a visit with an old friend: Tom Bombadil.'

'Tom!' cried the Hobbit. He beamed. 'I haven't seen him in such a long time. How is he?'

'Very well,' he answered. 'Anyway,' he began, 'I heard that he knew where the Shard may lie. He knew ages ago that it was lost within the Old Forest, safe from any hands. So I set out into the Forest and went to find the Shard. He said it may be near the west of the Forest, by Buckland. Even though it took many hours to find, I had found it nestled in the roots of a large oak tree. It was then however, I heard rustling from nearby, and who should I find watching me? Meriadoc.'

'So that's how you ran into eachother.'

The Wizard sighed. 'Unfortunately, yes.'

'Unfortunately?' asked Pippin, seeming befuddled at first, but then he smirked. 'Oh, you'd rather have met me instead?'

The Wizard rose an eyebrow. 'Peregrin, it wouldn't have made any difference.'

Then the Hobbit frowned, and hopped off from the table. 'You're never nice to me,' he muttered. Gandalf chuckled. A few minutes later, after Pippin had finished sorting all into bags and pouches, fastened the cloak of Lothloríen around him and hooked the scabbard upon his belt, Merry reappeared.

'The ponies are ready,' he told them. 'Are we ready?'

'We're ready,' said Pippin, taking hold of a few of the bags. 'Everything's packed.'

'Good,' said Gandalf, and he lowered himself out from the room. Merry hooked his sword onto his belt, fastened the cloak around him and aided Pippin in carrying the luggage out into the main hallway. Gandalf waited for them by the door, and after the Hobbits blew out all the candles, made sure all windows were locked and everything was secured, then they were satisfied to leave. Gandalf took hold of his staff, and the three proceeded outside.

When they stepped out into the exterior, dawn had arrived, and the sun's rays burned the treetops with a pale yellow. The two ponies awaited their master's approach, and they whinnied. As the Hobbit's hooked their baggage upon the ponies' saddles, a lengthy and ethereal sound whistled through the morning air. They turned to see the source of the sound was coming from Gandalf. A whistle he had let out, a call to something, they gathered. Then, a faint whinny came from beyond the trees, and there appeared in the aurora a galloping horse; his coat silver in the sunrise, and his stature majestic to the beholder.

'Shadowfax,' whispered Pippin, sounding as though he was in a trance at the horse's grace. Shadowfax swiftly strode towards them, his snowy mane dancing in the morning's breeze. Gandalf smiled at his statuesque companion.

'Yes, Shadowfax,' he said in reply to Pippin. 'He was permitted to accompany back on this mission.'

'I was beginning to wonder when you said "ride your steeds alongside mine",' said Merry. 'Now it makes sense.'

'Riding to Rivendell will be much quicker than on foot,' stated the Wizard, stroking his steed. 'Are you both ready?'

'Yes,' they answered simultaneously.

'Now, are you sure you really want to do this?'

'We're sure,' they answered once again in unison.

The Wizard mumbled, 'Very well,' and then he mounted his horse's bareback. The Hobbits copied and ascended onto their ponies' saddle. 'We ride upon the Great East Road. There is no need to journey in secrecy.' With that, Shadowfax turned himself east, and both rider and horse ambled eastward. The Hobbits followed behind their companion, ready to leave behind the Shire and back out into the great world that awaited them.


	6. Upon The Great East Road

**CHAPTER V**

**Upon The Great East Road**

Afternoon soon arrived, and the trio rode swiftly along the Great East Road towards their destination. Although leaving behind the security of the Shire once again, the hobbits knew that this was what they wished; to restore eternal harmony and to vanquish anything that will cause threat to all the folk of their land. Now knowing they had no need to travel in secrecy, the open road was secure to them for the time being, and to have the White Rider at their side lifted the hopes of safety and preservation.

The road meandered seldom, and it seemed as though this path was perpendicular to all eyes. A silence resided around all corners, and only the chirps of the birds or the soft rustling of the leaves broke the hush. The clopping of the hooves echoed through the breeze in rhythmic pace, and the occasional whinny accompanied it.

It was then a cloud of dark birds flew by high in the skies above them. Their cawing sent a shiver down each of their spines, as though it was a warning of something approaching from where they fled. Their cries were blood-curdling, and Pippin felt deeply uneasy by their constant cawing.

'I've never heard cries quite like that before,' he said uncomfortably to the others. 'Why are they like that?'

'This flock of birds may have witnessed a terror from where they roamed,' replied Gandalf darkly. 'My guesses are that they have flown in from the far East.'

'The far East?' said Merry. 'That's where the Shadow is, isn't it?'

'Yes, Meriadoc,' answered the Wizard. 'They may have come from the lands where now the Shadow ranges. They're giving us an early warning; to all the creatures that lay within the Shadow's path.'

'Where are they flying to?' asked Pippin, eyeing the darkened cloud of birds above them.

'Anywhere as far from the Shadow as possible. Although,' he paused, his bright eyes darkening, 'there may no longer be a sanctuary for them...' The tone of the Wizard's voice was haunting, and his pessimism was not aiding the Hobbit's anxiety at any rate.

It was a short while before Merry spoke: 'Will they no longer have a home?'

'They will,' said Gandalf quietly, 'although the hopes for surviving in a barren land will be highly unlikely; even though they can sore above the height of the Shadow, still they will have to suffer the aftermath of the entity's destruction...' A cold chill passed by them. It arose the hairs on the back of the hobbit's necks. The gust suddenly picked up its speed and temper, and the sun was veiled by weaving clouds. Then Gandalf began to recite a poem; his voice blending in with the whispers and howls of the wind. They faintly heard it upon the breeze, and they listened to it with much intent:

_..._

_Await no longer; ere the shadow wakes,_

_A thundering cloud of storm that quakes,_

_A malice of ancient time, a form of utmost prime._

_Ere the shadow wakes._

_..._

_Seeds of vim; fore the crystals rapt_

_Stones of sunlight bound and trapped,_

_A saviour from hopeless dream, a gem with heartbeat gleam,_

_Fore the crystals rapt._

_..._

_Come all sighters; far the powers clash,_

_Light and shadow, stone and ash,_

_Strive on hope and gloom, here we seek our doom,_

_Far the powers clash._

_..._

_Tales of time; to glory or to end,_

_Of all races abiding to wend,_

_Lingering hope of doubting gain, lingering fear of dreaded bane,_

_To glory or to end._

_..._

As soon as the poem came to an end, eventually the howling wind calmed its wrath. Although the sun had vanished beneath the thick layers of cloud, its rays illuminated the tops of the borders of the Old Forest. The skies turned into a darkening grey; the expectation of rainfall was likely. It was moments before anyone responded in any way to reduce the uneasy silence, or to least make comments on Gandalf's haunting poetry. Eventually though, after examining the meaning behind the rhyme, Merry spoke:

'Was that poem about the history of the Crystals and Shadow by any chance, Gandalf?'

'Yes,' he answered, turning slightly behind to see the Hobbit. 'It was once a poem created by the Elves during the First Age, although to many nowadays the rhyme itself was lost save for few who remembered it. It was originally recited in Quenya, it is seldom translated in the Common Speech. However, that happens to be the closet rewording keeping the rhythm and the rhymes intact.'

'What is it about?' asked Pippin.

'Well, about the Crystals and the Shadow. It was what they foresaw in the time soon to come if the Shadow was to ever awaken. The Crystal Shards are the only hope we have in order to save Middle-earth. Yet nobody knows what is soon to occur, whether it leads _'to glory or to end'. _Apparently, the powers of both are said to be one of the most destructive and most powerful clashes we may come to witness, if we are to ever find the remaining four Shards.'

Eventually, the murder of crows passed on by in the distance, taking with them their frightening cries. Passing on by near the north of the Old Forest was tranquil and straightforward; and they encountered no hostiles for the time being. However, the howls of wolves travelled upon the wind, and whether knowing they were close or at great distance from the trio was uncertain, although they hoped they were fortunate enough to not stumble upon the hungry beasts, for battling was one of the last things they hoped to come by.

Although could a task like that be so easy? For the land was still teeming with malevolent creatures, whether they roamed the mountain sides, lurked underneath the canopies of the neighbouring forests or wandered the grasslands. Wolves, bears, boars and other wild and fierce beasts were to be the height of danger, if not an encounter with goblins upon the mountains, or spiders lurking in the dark tunnels and woodlands. Although orcs are now a minority in Middle-earth, still they prowl near the edges of Mordor, and scattered about in other areas of the land.

. . .

As two days had gone by since their departure from Crickhollow, the three were coming near the east of the Old Forest's borders, and soon Bree would be in their sight. Although the sun has now been shadowed by grey clouds, the rain came pouring down upon them all; heavy, drizzly, light and all other sorts. Spring showers, of course, the season rainfall was highly expected.

They sheltered themselves underneath a large oak, only a few metres from the main road. They managed a small fire, and they did all they could to keep the rain from extinguishing the flames. There was no more silence, for the raindrops pounded onto the earth. Now that dusk was coming, the area would be shadowed in darkness save for the small illumination of the campfire.

Gandalf wandered off with Shadowfax; patrolling the outskirts of their small camp. The ponies huddled up and fed on the grass nearby. The Hobbits wrapped their cloaks around them, hoods up and all, and prepared their dinner; sausages, potatoes and beans. Once they reach Bree they could provide themselves with more food, but for now they savoured what they had, instead of nibbling on bread and apples for the passing days.

'Should we save some for Gandalf?' asked Pippin, taking a bite from his meal.

'I don't know when he'll return but it would be nice,' answered Merry, who kept fire burning by throwing on some more leaves and twigs. A gust of wind suddenly howled, and it sent the rainfall towards their camp. The showers almost managed to quench the fire.

'Curse this rain!' moaned the Hobbit. After he finished mumbling and cussing under his breath, a foreboding thought was implanted upon Pippin's mind since they left their home:

'What do you think of this Shadow?' he asked quietly.

Merry ended his irritation, and peered up at his cousin. 'What do you mean?'

'You weren't expecting to hear of something like this, were you?'

Merry shook his head. 'Of course not. It took me by surprise.'

'To think that one thing can wipe out an entire world,' Pippin sighed. 'It's terrifying; just to imagine no more life; no forests, no lakes, no people... Just... Nothing-'

'Pippin, stop!' snapped Merry suddenly. 'Don't even try to think of such things. You're about as uplifting as this rain,' he calmed the tone of his voice. 'Look, try not to think of it. It won't come to pass...'

Although trying to not think of it was absolutely challenging. Even though Merry ordered him to cast away the horrendous imaginings, he himself could not help but see the worse. The mood became greatly negative, and they didn't say anything else for a matter of time.

Sometime later however, once the gale had died down and the showers fell straight, a group of foxes passed on by in the undergrowth near the camp. Whilst Merry was occupied in keeping the fire burning, Pippin glimpsed at them from the corner of his eye. One of the foxes made a sudden halt, and returned gaze at the Halfling. Inside its tawny eyes was a mysterious despair that the Hobbit could not fathom. The foxes themselves didn't seem as collective as usual, and many scurried away west as quickly as they could. Once the fox ended eying the camp, it swiftly hurried to catch up with its kin.

'Do you think they know, too?' whispered Pippin to Merry.

'What does who know?' he asked befuddled, for he was off guard to the foxes trail.

'Nevermind,' he said, and he huddled himself inside his cloak to escape the chill of the coming dusk.

Nightfall fell quickly, and the area was shrouded in darkness apart from the small blaze of the campfire. Gandalf returned sometime later with Shadowfax, and accompanied the Hobbits for the rest of the night. Once dawn broke out, they didn't come to face a gorgeous sunrise, but yet another dull and miserable overcast morning. They left the area as soon as they could, and continued in travelling east down the road towards Bree.


	7. A Quick Stop At Bree

**CHAPTER VI**

**A Quick Stop At Bree**

The clouds never ceased to end their weeping. For lenghtly hours the trio endured rainfall of all varities, and not even the largest tree with the thickest layers of leaves could shelter them from the pervading raindrops. It was until though a few hours later when the clouds shifted into an even darker shade of grey, and the skies rumbled like a hungry beast. A storm was coming...

The wind picked up its speed and with great wrath squalled past the company; and the rain stung their faces like tiny needles. The wind howled and the rain pounded the ground. It seemed as though a hurricane was close at hand, and they definately hoped nothing so violent as that would occur. The Hobbits hid their faces within their hoods and tried all they could to keep them from being blown down and the rain stinging their faces. The Wizard did not seem as much fussed about the gale as the Hobbits, and his horse seemed to walk past the wind as though it took no effort whatsoever. If only that could be said about the poor ponies.

'We'd best find shelter and fast!' cried Meriadoc; his voice barely audible through the wind.

'Bree is not far!' said Gandalf. 'We can endure this. Only a two miles now.'

'This wind is fierce!' cried Peregrin. 'It's getting stronger, Gandalf.'

And it was. Soon the trees swayed fiercely, and the thunder rolled above them. The skies flashed with a great light, and moments later they rumbled angrily. It was difficult to endure such brutal weather, but they hoped the wind would not suddenly feel the need to blast the trio with tremendous force and knock the Halflings off their ponies. Unfortunately, even if the wind did not come to do so yet, the storm grew with fiery temper. Soon lightning accompanied the thunder, and their swift bolts cracked the grey clouds.

'This is getting dangerous!' proclaimed Merry. 'We should shelter ourselves from the tempest!'

The durability within the Halflings was not as great as the White Wizard's. They barely managed to stay upon their steeds, and yet they barely managed to see through the piercing rain. Gandalf acknowledged their struggle, for then he ceased to resist to battle the storm's strength.

'Very well,' he said to them. 'Under the trees!'

Although, once his command had ended, the lightning returned for another spark of mischief, and its bolt set alight the top of a nearby pine tree. It was very close to where the Hobbit's strayed, and the tree then began to succumb to the flames of the firebolt.

'Get away!' commanded Gandalf. He gestured for the Halflings to move away from the burning tree, but promptly its endurance failed, and the tree collapsed down towards them. The rainfall managed to then extinguish the flames, but the wind could not push aside the tree from falling upon the road.

'Look out!' cried the Wizard.

The Halflings then noticed the great pine tree moaning from above, and its branches crashed into the birches and the ashes below. The ponies paniced and galloped away from the tree's oncoming impact. Unfortunatley, Peregrin's steed arose onto his hind legs in terror, which then had the Hobbit lose balance and fall hard onto the ground. The pony paced away from the falling pine, whilst the hobbit lay within the tree's impact zone.

'Pippin!' cried Merry in utmost horror. The tree ripped through the canopies of the wavering wood, and its firm trunk plummeted like a tower razed by siege. Its target was chosen; its victim within its collision area...

Immediatley, Gandalf and Shadowfax galloped swiftly towards the helpless Halfling, and the Wizard quickly pulled him up onto the horse before the tree came tumbling down with a great **CRASH **upon the road. There it lay; and if it had been a second too late the pine would have buried the vulnerable Hobbit underneath its sturdy trunk.

'We cannot linger here any longer,' said Gandalf, escorting the Hobbit back towards its startled steed. 'We make for Bree despite the storm. We must get away from these trees.'

The Hobbit ascended his pony; still a wave of shock and panic within him. 'You saved me...' he whispered.

'I wasn't intending on letting you fall victim to that pine now, was I? With haste, my lads! We must get to Bree before another incident occurs!' Shadowfax pressed onward, and the Halflings followed, now fighting against the chilling wind and biting rain.

. . .

The thunder and lightning rolled on past, yet the rain and the wind remained. However, the rest of their journey to Bree was straightfoward than when the incident with the tree occured. Soaked, weary and hungry the Hobbits could not wait until their arrival to Bree, where they may feast on a warm meal and clothed in dry garments. An hour had passed, and soon they arrived to their destination: Bree. It seemed silent, although the rain broke it. Swiftly Gandalf and the Halflings advanced towards its gate, until the Wizard turned back to see to the two of them.

'Here we are, my lads: Bree. Your stay here will be short. You will have enough time for obtaining more provisions, but rest here for the night is unlikely.'

'Why are we not resting?' exclaimed Merry, quite dismayed.

'Because we have not the time, Meriadoc,' answered the Wizard firmly. 'We cannot linger for so long. Every second passing means every moment waned. Time is already reduced; we cannot let it lessen more,' Shadowfax trotted over towards the close wooden gate. 'However, as I said, you may take a short break. But only short; it's only a quick stop, then we continue eastward past Weathertop. I hope to be at Rivendell before four days.' Shadowfax made a halt outside the gate. 'Well, head inside, gain all you need, and then meet me back out here by twilight.'

'You're not coming in with us?' said Pippin.

'I'd rather let my prescence remain hidden. Also, I shall patrol the borders of this village.'

'Why do you feel the need to do that?' asked Merry.

'End your questions, Meriadoc, and proceed through. See to it you provide yourself with all the provisons you need, but do not encumber yourself in pointless trinkets and items. The ponies have enough to endure,' and with that he and Shadowfax passed on into the rain, and disappeared from their sight.

The Hobbits were welcomed into the village, as once they were recognized. They proceeded into the Prancing Pony, where they reunited with Butterbur. He greeted them warmly. The Inn was alive with rowdy cheers and chattering from all locals, and they eyed the Halflings as they passed through the crowd and ascended the stairs. The Hobbits advanced into one of the free chambers and were offered up a platter of delicious dishes. They left their garments to dry and changed into a drier set, and they let themselves rest their feet and fall into content. It was then Peregrin felt a throb on the back of his head. He gently touched it, and recoiled from the sudden pain.

Merry observed him. 'What's the matter?'

'When I fell I must've bumped my head on the ground,' he answered. They then replayed the scene earlier; the lightning, the tree, the sudden panic that befell upon them all. Pippin sighed. 'I can't thank Gandalf more,' he said quietly. 'Just imagine if it was a second sooner...' he grimaced to even visionise it.

'We owe him great thanks,' said Merry. 'That was terrifying. I dreaded to imagine the worse of it.'

'And to think worse may soon come...'

'Again with the morbid thinking,' muttered Merry. 'Try not to think of it. Let's just enjoy the meal, rest our heads for a while and be grateful we're sheltered from the rain.'

They were given more provisions upon the journey, and they thanked Butterbur and the others for a welcoming stay. Now twilight was pressing closer, and the rain ceased to weep upon the earth. The rainclouds rolled away, and finally the sun shone through the passing grey skies. Still the wind resided, and the ground was damp beneath their feet, but for the storm to have come to an end was all they were grateful for.

The Hobbits led their ponies from the stables and out back from the walls of the village. They ascended their steeds outside the gate, and awaited the return of their companion, from wherever he may be roaming. As perhaps ten minutes passed by, Gandalf appeared from within the nearby wood. He and his graceful stallion trotted towards them.

'Did you have a warm rest?' he asked them.

'Yes,' answered Pippin. 'It was lovely to be away from the rain.'

'Well as you can see the rainclouds have passed on by. The following day's journey should run smoothly under clear skies. But, my lads, heed this warning,' his voice turned dark and firm. 'There have been sightings of wolves nearby. It would be best to try not to run into them.'

'Where are they?' asked Merry, seeming quite unnerved by the Wizard's warning.

'I don't know,' he answered. 'But hopefully they are not within our path. Come, my lads, we make haste towards Rivendell. No more dawdling; and try not to run into any trouble again, whether it be encounters with beasts or nature,' he looked directly at Pippin when he said this. 'Let us press on.'


	8. Howls Upon Weathertop

**CHAPTER VII**

**Howls Upon Weathertop**

The following day saw no rain nor thunder, and alas not even sunshine. A mist unfolded upon there path, and it lingered for many miles. The road lay veiled by it, and to see out upon the open road was rather difficult. There was no noise; there was no sound of life. Uneasy, and quite anxious, they proceeded through the pale haze.

Now they were away from the security of Bree and approaching the towering hill-fort of Weathertop. Unfortunately the thick mist veiled the entire hill and the ruins were clouded by the swirling fog. It suddenly turned chilly, yet there was no breeze. The atmosphere felt heavy and humid, and the ambiance was haunting; there was no sound, just complete silence. Although the silence was broken by the steed's hooves upon the rocky path. It was getting steeper, and the stone was loose underneath them, and occasionally the ponies tripped or slipped on the rocks.

'The ground isn't sturdy,' said Pippin. 'Is there any other safer route?'

'Not for our steeds,' answered Gandalf. He was barely visible through the mist, as he and Shadowfax blended in with its pale grey shade. 'It is not far to Rivendell now. Once this mist fades then all will be better.'

'Where abouts are we?' asked Merry.

'Somewhere near Weathertop, I assume. The fort must be somewhere north from where we are. Although we cannot see if it is there.'

'Weathertop,' whispered Pippin, and a shiver trailed down his spine. 'In a way, I'm thankful for this fog, so then I won't have to lay my eyes upon it again.'

'But there isn't any threat nearby,' said Merry, attempting to cast aside the chilling memory from Pippin's mind. 'We're going to make it to Rivendell with no hassle.'

'Hm,' mumbled Pippin skeptically.

The path led upwards, and the company knew that they were then trailing up the hill. The ground was even more unstable with too many loose stones, and they could barely see the edge of the path where the hill drops. They very cautiously maneuvered their steeds up the stony hill path, and the Hobbits clung onto their reins lest they fall from the saddle and down the hill. Once the road meandered away from the ravine, their caution had lessened, and the ponies ceased to stumble on the ground.

For a short time the ascension across Weathertop went rather smoothly; for there was no disturbance or an encounter upon their road. Though soon later the road again began to alter into an unstable path laid among them, and the pans fastened onto Pippin's pony's saddle began to knock against eachother.

Gandalf looked back at him. 'What is that?' he asked curiously.

'It's the saucepans. They're clattering,' answered Pippin, attempting to move apart the rattling pans. 'I'll try and-'

At that moment, he let loose the pans fortuitously, and the cooking equipment tied upon the saddle fell and clashed upon the road. And since they were beside the hill, the pans and pots bounced with deafening volume down the hill; their sounds fading as they descended further. There was a sudden silence heavy with tension, and then Gandalf leered at the shamefaced halfling.

'Fool of a Took!' he hissed.

The Hobbit lowered his head in shame, and the three sat in heavy awkwardness as their cooking equipment disappeared down the high cliff. Although, once the clattering had ended through the pale mist, a strange snarl was heard in reply. Momentarily after, it was mingled with haunting howls. The company's anxiety then shot sky high, as the howls grew louder and proceeded closer towards them. They could not see the source, for the fog was too thick. But their steps were plainly heard upon the soil, and shortly afterwards their silhouettes formed in the haze.

'Wolves,' grumbled Gandalf. 'Just our luck.'

The wolves came from all sides in front of them, and their bodies were cloudless as they tread closer. The company counted at least five. Once they laid their hungry eyes upon the two Halflings and the shielding Wizard, they snarled, and bared their razor-sharp teeth at their prey.

'Stay behind me, my lads,' ordered the Wizard firmly, descending off Shadowfax.

The Hobbits - terrified and anxious - obeyed his command. Gandalf arose his staff and pulled out his luminous sword Glamdring, which strangely enough seemed to glow with a proud radiance in the mist. This did not threaten the wolves at all however, and they continued to circle and surround the trio.

It was then the ponies' panic grew, and they became restless at the pack's presence. They whinnied and threw themselves about, which alerted the wolves, and two went to focus on them. The others seemed then to have an order to attack, and one of the pack managed to circle behind the Hobbits. Once its snarling and growling was fierce, it leaped towards the Hobbits; bloodthirsty and ravenous.

Quickly the Wizard acted, and he swung around and knocked away the leaping beast with his staff. However the wolf behind him had an advantage, and he jumped up at the Wizard. At great speed, Gandalf managed to turn quickly and whack the wolf with both his staff and sword. The first victim of Gandalf's staff arose from its feet, and as though the impact caused a much more dangerous wrath inside the wolf's eyes, it hurled itself at the trio once again. Merry rapidly unsheathed his blade and attempted a lethal swing at the wild beast. It failed. Although it caused the wolf to lose its focus, and it missed the Hobbit by a hair's breadth. The two wolves behind them were preparing to leap on the panicking ponies.

'The ponies!' cried Merry. 'Protect the ponies!'

Pippin unsheathed his sword and went to fend off the beasts from their steeds. The Wizard, however, was focusing on two circling wolves, and he could not take his gaze off theirs, for one sudden stray of the eye the beast will leap, and have the advantage of harming its prey. Once Pippin moved closer to the two beasts, they snarled and growled and backed away from his blade. Suddenly, the one of the left snapped at the Hobbit's heels at such speed Pippin almost stumbled onto the floor. The other tried to claw at his feet, and the Hobbit countered with a swing of the blade.

As Gandalf whacked once again one of the ambitious beasts, it made a cry of agony, and its desire to harm its prey was no more, and it hurried off down the road in defeat. But the others remained; very determined to take the trio down. Although the Wizard was just as agile as they, and still acting as a shield to the two Halflings behind him, he continued to fend off the most violent of the lot. As Gandalf was focused on the two vicious canines in front of the road, the Hobbits went to fend off the wolves away from the panicking ponies. Shadowfax came to Gandalf's aid, and with great courage the two, such an inseparable duo as they, were a force much more greater than two snarling wolves.

'Away with you!' cried the Wizard.

The wolves refused, and together they leaped towards both Shadowfax and he. What was the outcome but a smack in the face with the Wizard's sturdy staff and Shadoxfax's powerful hooves, in both seriously damaged the wolves greatly. Acting the same as their fleeing kin did momentarily ago, they limped away, crying as they did.

The Hobbits were having difficultly in casting away the remaining two wolves, as they seemed less threatened by a creature only slightly larger than they. Quickly, Gandalf hurried over to them just before a ravenous and bloodthirsty one managed to injure Pippin with his claws and teeth, and he whacked the wolf across the head. Although they seemed much more determined than the rest of their pack, they knew the odds of defeating this brave company was slim, and in fury they scuttled away down the road in defeat.

Exhausted and relieved, the Hobbits collapsed to the floor in tiredness. The ponies ceased to flail themselves about, and their contentment returned to them. Only suffering little nicks and bruises from the conflict, the Hobbits arose to see to their steeds, who thankfully were in good condition.

'Hopefully that shall be the last we see of those wolves,' the Wizard presumed.

He ascended Shadowfax. Parts of his cloak suffered a few tears and rips from the wolves' claws, but that was about it. As he watched the Hobbits climb onto their ponies, Pippin dared a glimpse at Gandalf. The reply was but a stern and irritated glare, which again had the Hobbit feel shame.

'We must make haste to Rivendell,' said Gandalf. 'Let us hope for the remaining journey we encounter _no more _troubles,' Pippin gathered that his words were aimed at him, and he hoped too that that would be the last of any troubles on their road. At that Gandalf turned Shadowfax eastward and they continued their journey. The Hobbits followed at a reasonable pace behind him, and Peregrin wished to stay rather far from the wizard, but he feared that way he'd end up getting the others into turmoil as the previous days and what occurred only minutes ago, so he remained between Gandalf and Merry. Only a while later though Merry quickened his pace and rode beside his abashed cousin.

'Are you alright?' he asked. Pippin managed a very feeble nod in reply, although his expression remained blameworthy. 'It's alright, Pip. None of us were injured.'

'That doesn't matter; I once again caused mishap to us. I feel as though I'm an ill fortune to all those around me,' then he let out a sigh of melancholy.

'Ill fortune?' said Merry, disagreeing with this statement. 'I wouldn't say that. What happened was an accident. You didn't intend to deliberately let loose those pans. We both know so.'

'Also, we have nothing to use for cooking,' said Pippin.

'True, but,' he paused for moment, 'I'm sure we can acquire more at Rivendell.' The expression remained guilty on Pippin's face, and then Merry frowned. 'Don't look so glum, Pip. Remember: who tricked the Orc into taking us away from the battle near Fangorn Forest? Who sent the Ents down towards Isengard which ended in its destruction? Who told that Faramir was still alive before he was burned?' Pippin looked up at him then. 'Exactly. You've done some great things, Pip. I wouldn't say that you're an ill fortune. Perhaps a klutz,' Pippin managed a small smile, 'but definately not an ill fortune. I wouldn't say that about you. I wouldn't say that about you at all.' And with that, he quickened the pony's pace and rode between them both, travelling towards Rivendell; the sanctuary of the third Crystal Shard.


	9. Rivendell

**CHAPTER VIII**

**Rivendell**

There was no longer a mist upon the road; for the sun peeked out her golden head from amongst the fading clouds. It was wellnigh four days since the ambush at Weathertop the trio approached a large valley with luscious trees and a crystalline river running through the towering cliffs. As they trailed the road amidst the ravine, they came to a corner, and once they turned they came upon the awe-inspiring view of the Elven City of Rivendell.

'We've finally made it,' said Merry.

'Yes, we have,' said Gandalf.

'For an odd reason,' said Pippin, 'it seems slightly gloomy.' He looked up at the sky, and the sun was highest as it could reach. 'How is this?'

'A majority of the Elves have left Middle-earth to return to Undying Lands,' informed Gandalf. 'I presume very few abide here, yet many have now departed. Nonetheless, the Shard is in a secure place. We will obtain it, and then we make leave.'

'How do you know the Shard is still here?' said Merry.

'I know it is,' answered Gandalf, and they continued down along the valley and into the Elven City.

Once they reached the entrance to the beautiful town, the leaves of the dale were auburn in colour, and many descended from their branches and gracefully onto the ground. Although it was not near Autumn as the hobbits recalled; for Spring only dawned wellnigh a week ago, and the budding flowers should not bow their heads for departure so suddenly. But alas it was not only the leaves and the flowers that were cast under a gloomy enchantment; for the stone-laid dwellings and all that was carved from rocks, and even the crafts from bark were shadowed.

The Hobbits felt not any warmth of the sun any longer, and the clouds were tinted with a solemn grey. The City lay silent in a thick hush, and only the ponies' hooves were heard amongst the soundless atmosphere. The Hobbits descended from their steeds and Gandalf followed. For the uplifting heat of the sun's rays were perished, a cold chill supplanted the glow of the Springtime Star, and it touched their spines with an icy and dreaded finger.

Pippin sighed sadly. 'There's nobody here to greet us.'

'So much for a homely abode,' murmured Merry, and he approached the railings of the nearby balcony. Gandalf peered up at the darkened sky, and then he sighed also. Just then, he felt a tug on the end of his white cloak, and he glanced down to see Peregrin standing sheepishly beside him like a needy child.

'What is it?' asked the Wizard.

'Where is everyone?' he replied.

'I know not,' said Gandalf. 'I did not expect to find ourselves in what now appears to be a deserted settlement.'

'Deserted?' said Pippin, glancing around. 'But you said there are still Elves about.'

'Then perhaps I was wrong,' he said, and he sighed. 'Listen; you stay here with Merry and I'll search around for the Shard. Don't stray anywhere until I return. Watch over the steeds aswell,' and with that he departed through one of the outer doorways and out of their sight. Once the Wizard had left, Pippin went to see to Merry, who was leaning upon the railing and gazing out into the now obscure valley. The expression on his face appeared disheartened, and he seemed to refuse the acknowledgement of Pippins approaching, until then he spoke.

'Are you alright?' he asked.

'Splendid,' he replied in a passive tone. Pippin took note on it.

'You don't sound like it.'

'I know,' he said, and he sighed. With that, he turned to face his cousin. 'What are we doing, Pip?'

'Um,' he thought, 'standing?'

'Obviously,' muttered Merry, 'but I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was: what are we _doing_? Perhaps the desire of a fresh voyage has dispersed from me, but now I feel almost lifeless and drained of spirit.'

Pippin rose an eyebrow. 'Are you saying now that you don't wish to go on?'

'Yes, but no. A part of me wishes to carry on forward and to not rest until this task is done, yet the other half is completely the antithesis of my other half. I vowed to not stop until we acquire all the Shards and defeat the Shadow, but a part of me wishes to turn back and return to the Shire. It's such a perilous journey we've agreed to undergo, and the foreboding scenarios of failure are getting the better of me.'

'You told me to cast aside any thought of a dead future,' said Pippin. 'I've done just that, but yet now you're feeling pessimistic?'

'In a way, yes,' he answered.

Pippin remained there in silence and deep in thought, until a moment later he spoke: 'You said that this was a perilous journey,' he said, 'but so was our previous one, but the dangers didn't stop us from carrying on, didn't it?'

'I guess not,' he said; a hint of hope gradually returning into his soul.

'And so what if there are perils? Back at Crickhollow you said to forget the perils; for the safety of our world was far more important than letting a few obstacles stand in between us and triumph. What happened to valiant Merry back then? Did he stay behind?'

Merry frowned. 'Of course not!' he said bitterly, but Pippin smiled.

'Then don't let a shadow fall on you like it did to me. Fight it! Believe that we can achieve this goal, and that will influence your determination to carry on without any reluctance.' Merry's eyes wandered in thought, and Pippin continued: 'I'm sure you wouldn't want to let Gandalf down? Or Sam, or anyone else back at home? Or even Frodo, for that matter? What would Gandalf say if he now saw the hobbit he assumed worthy of dangerous deeds now shrunken to a cowardly moaner, hm? I'm sure you don't want _that _to happen,' and he grinned.

Merry rose an eyebrow at his words, and then he smiled in reply. 'You're right. I mean, we can't fail this task. Despite how slim the victory may be, at least we'll know that we fought to the end,' he laid a hand upon Pippin's shoulder, 'and that we did it for the Shire, and for our friends.'

'And for all the people of Middle-earth,' said Pippin.

'Indeed,' said Merry, and he let his hand drop. After a moment of such a determined speech, he sighed. 'So where did Gandalf wander off to, then?'

'I'm not sure,' answered Pippin, 'but he went through there,' and he indicated to the doorway.

'Go and see where he's gone, I'll look after the ponies and Shadowfax.'

'Alright,' said Pippin, and he disappeared through the doorway.

. . .

After a few minute's wandering and gallivanting through a complex maze, Pippin emerged to a clearing outside of the settlement. He then noticed a few stairs spiralling down into a deep yet miniature chasm, and he descended them. He then found himself in a chamber illuminated only by a dim light, which was coming from Gandalf's staff.

'Hullo, Gandalf,' said Pippin entering the chamber.

Gandalf turned and scowled. 'I told you to wait back there.'

'Merry's looking after them; he sent me to find you.'

'Well, you have found me now, so do me a favour and return.' As he said this, Pippin immediately noticed a middle-sized crystalline stone upon a pedestal. It was glowing rainbows of colours, and its beauty allured the halfling greatly.

In awe, he asked: 'Is that the Shard?'

'Yes, that is the Third Shard,' answered the Wizard. 'It was kept hidden here for an age, yet now Elrond's sons have gone yonder, and so Rivendell is left untended by any of the Elves. A darkness has fallen upon not only Rivendell, but now a majority of the West of Middle-earth. Whether it is a device made by the Shadow we know not, but now the Earth can feel the creeping presence of this menace.'

'So the days were darkening?' said Pippin, eyes still fixated upon the Shard.

Gandalf nodded. 'We will seldom see the sun for many tedious days. Night is overwhelming, so now day is greatly short.' As Gandalf placed the Shard into his robes, Pippin's trance was broken, and he paid more heed to the Wizard's words. The Wizard had noticed Pippin's little entrancement, and he sighed. 'The Crystals are beautiful stones, and their elegance has the power to charm many races into a blissful daze. Although when one looks upon it they may be driven by a desire to obtain it, but unlike the One Ring it does not hold the power to destroy. The Crystals are but alluring to the sight. I was also captivated by their fairness also, but at least I had the power to break the spell.'

Pippin chuckled. 'I wasn't charmed I was just... Admiring them.' With that, Gandalf rolled his eyes. Once Gandalf went to retrieve his staff, Pippin then said: 'So, where is our next destination?'

Gandalf suddenly halted, and his face seemed serious. 'Next destination?' he said. 'I think your journey ends here, Master Peregrin.'

'How come?' said Pippin with dismay.

'As much it was lovely to have some company I feel it is best for you both to return to the Shire. I can handle the rest from here onwards.'

'But,' stammered Pippin, 'we vowed.'

'It matters not,' said the Wizard, 'it is best for you to return now.'

'Why?' moaned the Hobbit. With that, Gandalf rapidly turned to face the hobbit, and his eyes were shadowed.

'Because I said so,' he said. 'Just from Crickhollow to here you have managed to tangle yourself in turmoil; whether it is almost being crushed by a falling pine or mauled by rapid wolves. I fear for your safety, and I wish not to see you suffer the worse. You'd be safe back in the Shire. This task was only appointed to me and me only, and to drag you both into my business hasn't been the wisest of the choices that I have made.'

'Then what about Frodo's journey, eh?' retorted the Halfling.

'Don't drag the past into this conversation. You shall make leave from whence you can. Do not disobey me, Peregrin Took.'

'I hope you realise that Merry is not going to like this one bit?' said Pippin; hands on hips.

'Well then,' said Gandalf, 'that is just the way it has be.' And with that the tempered Wizard left the chamber with Pippin behind him, and they returned back to where they entered.

Once Merry saw them emerge from within the shadow of the doorway, he hopped up and smiled. 'Nice to see you both again,' he said merrily. 'So when do we make leave for the next location?' As he said this, Pippin appeared uncomfortable, and Gandalf's face became stern, whilst Merry was oblivious as to the reason why. 'Why does everyone look depressed?'

The Wizard sighed. 'Meriadoc, I have already said to Pippin only a short while ago that you both shall be making your way back to Crickhollow once you can.'

And his words Merry's expression appeared bewildered, and he was also downhearted from this. 'What?' he stammered. 'Why?'

'Because the path holds many perils and I wish not to see the two of you become wounded or fall into danger,' replied the Wizard. Then the Hobbit's face turned from confused to tempered, and he scowled. 'I said I care not of any perils,' he snapped. He turned to see Pippin. 'And what of that whole speech you said to me?'

'I didn't know that Gandalf was to say this,' retorted Pippin, now angered. 'Do not place the blame onto me.'

'No, Meriadoc, do not place the blame onto him,' said Gandalf. 'Quarrelling is no solution.'

'But,' stuttered Merry, 'we _vowed_. We cannot break that vow.'

'I know we cannot, Merry, but there is no way to persuade him for us to join him,' said Pippin.

'Persuasion or not, I don't care for perils. I'm strong enough to defend myself, and so is Pippin-' he then paused, 'well, mostly. Please, Gandalf, I wish not to beg but can you not offer us another opportunity to accompany you to wherever you seek to ride?'

The Wizard shook his head. 'No, Meriadoc, you cannot.'

'I don't wish to return,' pleaded the Halfling. 'I wish to stand beside you to the end. We both wish this. I can even prove that I am worthy enough, I will prove that I have the quality to do so. Please, Gandalf, we cannot let the Shire down. We cannot let our friends down, or for this world to perish. I'm sure you wish not to place such a regret upon you when you come realise we were here in any dire need, yet did not wish for the aid. Let us go yonder to wherever our feet take us; to wherever the remaining Shard dwell. Gandalf,' he paused, 'will you not let us come with you?'

A thick silence similar to the one encountered back at Crickhollow was come, and the wizard abode in thought, yet his face remained irritated once again by the hobbit's words. He looked towards Pippin, and he saw the same determined fire in his eyes that was ignited in Merry's. After a moment's waning, Gandalf made a lengthy sigh, and he nodded his head.

'So be it, Master Meriadoc,' he said. 'You may travel with me. But do not let me come to regret this decision,' and he voice was firm. The Hobbits nodded, and were relieved. 'So where is our next destination?' asked Pippin.

'I have heard rumour that the Fourth Shard lies in the deepest chambers of Orthanc,' he said.

'Orthanc?' said Merry in surprise. 'The Tower of Saruman! Isenagrd!'

'Yes,' said the Wizard, 'Isengard. And then after that we make for Rohan, and settle at Edoras for a short while.'

'Edoras?' said Pippin. 'We reunite with Lord Éomer and the Lady Éowyn?'

'Yes,' said the Wizard.

Merry's face lightened with joy, and he beamed. 'I cannot wait to see them,' he said; 'it has been such a long time since we last saw them.'

'And then lastly,' began the Wizard, 'for our final stop for now we rest at Minas Tirith.'

'Minas Tirith!' cried Pippin. 'We are to reunite with Aragorn and Faramir?'

'We are to reunite with them, yes,' and the Wizard smiled at their joy.

'Then let us make haste!' cried Merry. 'I'm too eager to stay idle here.'

'Me too!' said Pippin, and they both ascended their steeds. Gandalf was rather amused by their excitement, and they acted like restless children. He made a warm smile, and he bade for Shadowfax to begin to tread, and the hobbit's ponies' followed.


	10. The Goblins of the Towers of Mist

**CHAPTER IX**

**The Goblins of the Towers of Mist**

Here they set out from the now silent city of Imladris, and took forth upon the road southward from the valley. Their course was to make for the Gap of Rohan; the only open pass into the east of Middle-Earth, emerging into the great vast plains of the Kingdom of Rohan. Since the triumph during the War of the Ring, the Gap was restored, and their was no threat about save for a number of goblins still prowling within the Mountains, although none now dared to lurk upon the road, or to stray anywhere near Isengard or the dense forest of Fangorn. Although they may not be willing to linger close to the passage, the slinking creatures may yet still taint the desolate lands of Eregion; where the company must pass in order to reach the safety of the Gap and advance into the allied lands.

. . .

The Hobbits were grateful to the fact that they had no need to reenact the scenes from their previous adventure: scaling the steep peak of Caradhas or journeying through the gloomy mines of Moria. Instead, they were out upon the highlands, but were to pass the desolate rigid lands of Eregion, where their previous journey also took a halt. However, the Wizard still seemed anxious, and he didn't keep his hopes up too high about the passes of Eregion being secure. As the afternoon approached, the company made a small encampment at the same area that they had rested before. As they fried their food upon the open fire, Pippin's mind wandered off in memory.

'It feels as though I'm reliving the days we nine set out from Rivendell all those years ago,' he said, smiling. 'Remember when we were here the last time?'

'Yes, I remember,' nodded Merry. 'Remember when we were searched for by crows?'

Then his smile dropped. 'Oh yes,' he said languidly. 'And then we had to climb the pass of Caradhas.'

'But we couldn't so we had to pass through the Mines of Moria,' continued Merry, somewhat casually. 'Wasn't that just a lot of fun?' his sarcasm made Pippin roll his eyes, and then he gazed out into the open lands. As Merry was cooking the meal, he saw Gandalf stand firmly a few meters away, acting like a sentinel with watchful eyes. 'Are you okay?' he asked.

'You can never be too careful,' said the Wizard. 'Unfortunately Goblins still prowl at the feet of the Misty Mountains.'

'They do?' asked Pippin, snapping out of his reverie.

'Yes,' nodded Gandalf. 'They do.'

'Do you think they'd know that we're here?' asked Merry then, regretting building a fire in the open.

'Who knows?' said the wizard, and he came then to join them as he sat upon a rock. As he did, Merry looked up at him.

'Taters?'

'Yes, please,' answered the wizard, and the hobbit progressed to cook some potatoes in the wizard's meal. As a moment's waning had passed, Pippin sighed as though lost in a yearning memory.

'O, How much I'd give for one sip of ale,' he said.

'I'd doubt you'd find any out in these lands,' said Merry. 'But perhaps when we stop at Edoras we may enjoy a treat or two.'

'I hope so,' said the Hobbit, and he drifted back into thought.

. . .

The distant silhouettes of the Misty Mountains darkened as the shadows of twilight fell upon their summits. The colours of the fading sun scorched the sky with watercolour rainbows, and the burning shades of red and yellow ignited the purples and blues of the approaching night. Amidst the creeping darkness the trio's campfire fended off the hungry shadows, and the three rested silently after their supper.

The Hobbits quietly whispered to one another whilst the Wizard wandered the limits of their camp. The ponies and Shadowfax were close and secure, and enjoyed the warmth of the flames. However, Gandalf was restless; for the ambiance beyond the borders of the camp seemed disturbed by some unfriendly presence. This did not stop the Wizard from wishing to wander away from the safety of the encampment however, and although his robes seemed pale grey amongst the darkness he feared not to see to that the areas around where they rested were guarded and tranquil.

Here he looked back towards the two Hobbits chattering away carelessly as though there were no peril about them; as though back home in the Shire. This made the Wizard seem mingled with feelings of content, but alas also vexation. They were unprepared; their weapons laid out upon the floor and their helmets and armour tucked away in their packs. Their laughing rang across the rigid terrain and upon the feet of the mountain range, and this did not please the Wizard one bit.

'Peregrin, Meriadoc,' he called quietly, 'do keep the volume down to a minimal level; I fear there may be a malice walking about the camp.'

'Then do you wish for us to quench the fire?' asked Pippin, ready to extinguish the flames.

Gandalf shook his head. 'Not necessary,' he said, 'I would like to know that you are both in a secure area. I am to wander just around this encampment to determine this area is safe, so there be no threat to us.'

'Okay, Gandalf,' said Merry. 'We'll be quiet.'

'Good,' said the Wizard, and he left out into the darkness.

. . .

Like a wraith he passed silently upon the ground and through the tangled weeds and withering plantation. The terrain was unstable, and the loose rocky floor cracked and broke off smaller pebbles that rolled and bounced upon the ground. Although he remained quiet, as though only a fox was passing by.

He wandered east of the grounds nearest to the Mountains, for rumour had it that the Goblin horde that dwelt within the caverns of the Towers of Mist and the forsaken and dreaded Mines of Moria still prowled the highlands. The Goblin horde's numbers were but a few, but even though the Might of Sauron was ended, the malice and lust for the great caves delved into the Mountains was greater now than it had been then. Yet the quest for recolonizing Khazad-Dûm was far into the future, they hoped yet even by the strength of King Elessar that the remaining Goblins and Orcs will disperse and diminish into ruin.

Here Gandalf wandered like a pale ghost across the rolling ridges of the mountains, and the light of the campfire had passed behind the hills, and then he knew that he was away from the security of the camp, but despite that knowledge he continued forth in search for the creeping malice eying the company.

As he wandered through the darkness he deemed then that the peril had passed on and had returned from whence it came, and that the area was secure once again. But once he turned to return towards the camp he heard a strange and cackling sound northwards from where he stood. Alert and cautious he silently crept towards the source of the disturbance, and as he passed by large rocks and boulders he caught sight of a minute group - five specifically - of devilish Goblins clad in jagged armour and grasping harsh weaponry. He remained calm and watchful, and he hid himself behind a boulder and listened intently to their vulgar words:

'You saw a light upon the west?' snarled the First. 'You're eyes are playing tricks again. It's probably just star.'

'Would a star linger upon the ground?' retorted the Second. 'I know what I saw and I want to know what it is.'

'O, shut yourself!' barked the Third. 'Uzug going to send a patrol down to see.'

'It's probably Men,' hissed the Fourth, 'we should go forth and take them down by surprise while they're unprepared.'

'It may be Men but it could be an army of them,' warned the Fifth, 'and that army could be aiming to ambush us at any moment.'

'Then we must see to it that they are taken care of,' said the Second. 'We have enough lads to take on whatever threat they pose. I doubt it'd be Elves; they've wandered back into the West to their accursed lands. Although Gorbug said that some Elves still abide in the Woods eastward of Khazad-dûm.'

'The Woods of Lothlórien?' said the First. 'A few of the lads went down there about a year ago to attempt to fight them but even though their numbers are few and the Lord and Lady have departed they're still fierce, as always.'

'Argh, I hate Elves!' cried the Fifth. 'I curse that race with utmost detest,' and then he spat onto the ground in rage.

'Men are our greatest threat now,' said the Third. 'Since the Throne of Gondor has been reclaimed the hope of Men has increased and they are determined to wipe the lot of us out.'

'Then we gather all forces together and fight the White City,' hissed the Fourth.

The others gasped and then laughed. 'Are you serious?' cackled the Third. 'You idiot! Look at what happened to the Army of Mordor! They never managed to break the siege of that city. The City on the River, yes, but that has been reclaimed also. The remaining Orcs of Mordor are few, and all they can do now is cower in their lands until Gondor comes to wipe them all out and see to it that Mordor is under their dominion.'

The others fell silent for a moment, and then the Fifth Goblin spoke with a hint of hope and wicked pleasure within his cold voice. 'I almost forgot to say,' he began: 'The rumours of the East have come true!'

'Rumours of the East?' said the Second. 'I thought that was but horror tales to tell to the peoples of Middle-earth.'

'It is no longer,' said the Fifth. 'It has been awoken. Perhaps the Fall of Men will come ere the passing of the year.'

'But does it not move gradually?' asked the Third. 'The pace it creeps is slower; its coming to Middle-earth will be longer, it will not come within this year.'

'But when it comes,' said the Fifth with mirth, 'we may be spared from its destruction, although all the other races shall perish forever.' The group laughed and cheered in the hoping of a Man-free future. 'The Fall of Man is nigh,' he snarled. 'The Revolution has begun!' And with that the group continued towards the Misty Mountains, cackling and rooting as they left.

. . .

Here Gandalf stood silent and uneasy by their conversation, and then he remembered one of the earlier things that they had mentioned: a patrol was to be sent to see to the light in the West. His eyes widened, and he hoped greatly that the patrol had not reached the camp and that the Hobbits were safe and in peace.

As quick and stealthy as before he set off in such a pace across the uneven terrain of Eregion, returning towards the camp. Once the warm light of the fire was in sight upon the horizon, the light flickered as though restless shadows strove past it constantly within the minutes, and the faint sounds of cries were carried upon the wind towards him. The Wizard's stomach dropped like an anchor, and a weight crushed his heart. _Please be in one piece_, he hoped, and he rushed with great speed back towards the camp.

Once he approached the camp, he took out Glamdring from its scabbard and readied for an attack. With a cry he rushed into the light of the campfire, and to his eyes he saw the opposite of what he had feared. The Hobbits glanced at him blankly and in a state of confusion, and then Peregrin smiled.

'The equipment caught fire,' he said. 'But we managed to quench the flames.'

Here a wave of relief flew through the Wizard, and air returned to his lungs. He smiled, but faintly. 'Well, that is unfortunate,' he said, withdrawing Glamdring into its scabbard. Then his face turned grim. 'But we cannot linger here.'

'Why not?' asked Meriadoc.

'I feared that the passes of Eregion were not yet safe, and its residents still prowl amidst the feet of the Mountains of Mist. We had best continue to a safer place, and there we can make camp once again.'

'But it's dark,' moaned Pippin; 'The ponies won't be able to see where they're going.'

The anxiety of the patrol advancing and assaulting the camp was high, but the Wizard knew that they were right. He sighed. 'Very well; we shall stay. But the fire must now be quenched.'

The Hobbits nodded, and together they extinguished the fire. As the shadows enveloped them, Gandalf let out from the tip of his staff a faint and earthly glow; hardly noticeable from afar, and it illuminated only a small section, which aided the Halflings to see what they were doing before they rested and slept into a peaceful night sleep; unaware of any peril circling their camp, or watching the blackness where they lay from atop a hill not far away.

But as the hours passed, and the darkness deepened, to Gandalf's relief no Goblins had come to the camp. After sitting restless and sleepless listening with acute hearing to the world around him, he deemed it was now safe to sleep, and so, even though anxious and uneasy to whether the Goblins may or may not come, he drifted into sleep, but dreamed of nightmares of a dead future and the wrath of the creeping Shadow.


	11. Isengard Reborn

**CHAPTER X**

**Isengard Reborn  
**

After passing through the lifeless lands of Eregion they swiftly came upon the road and following it they soon arrived at the Gap of Rohan. Passing through the narrow enclosure of the pass they turned quickly north-east, and followed the road into a valley. As the skies turned back to an ocean of blue, the sun appeared through the midst of the passing storm clouds, and as she appeared there upon the east she glimmered upon a tall black silhouette of an unknown structure. As the trio gazed far forward, they saw then the sun sitting majestically upon the summit of the Tower of Orthanc, acting like a lighthouse to wandering travellers.

Like a Lamp of the Valar it cast a great ray of light upon the plains southward, and unveiled reborn trees and fresh grass that was once trampelled and torn by the scouring and perversion of Isengard. Their steeds came then to the gate of the Circle of Isengard, and though parts were torn and destroyed, new vegetation grew upon their blackened stones. Trees flourished and embellished the once lifeless and industrialised Ring of Isengard; once the abode of the Saruman the White, the corrupted Istari, and the womb of the half-bred Uruk-hai.

As green and life found its new home here in the Ring, it was as though passing back into memory before Saruman's heart was set for machinery and mechanics. It made Gandalf smile, for now here Isengard was reborn anew into a domain to none, but guarded by the Ents of neighbouring Fangorn Forest. The once flooded Ring found small ponds around the inner sections of the Circle, where the trees drank and the ferns were greener. The forest had managed to find its way back in as nature had overwhelmed an industrialised colony.

Then to the trio's surprise, a small number of Ents trailed through the garden's youth. As they came forth towards the Foot of Orthanc there they were greeted by Fangorn himself: Treebeard, and the Hobbits were greatly pleased to see him again.

'Treebeard!' they called.

The trundling giant turned to see the trio advancing towards the Tower, and he smiled, and at length he spoke: 'Hello to you again, Master Hobbits. It has been, _Baahhruuumm, _many years since we last met.'

'Greetings, Fangorn,' called the Wizard. The Ent turned to see the White Rider.

'Greetings, Gandalf,' he said. 'What business brings the three of you back here?'

'We seek an item from within the chambers of Orthanc,' replied Gandalf.

'The Tower, _Baahhruuumm,_ has been rummaged through by the King and his men,' he paused to breathe so often, and even inhaled during sentances. 'What item may still lie within the chambers of Orthanc?'

'One of great importance,' said Gandalf. 'King Elessar and his men may have searched deep within the chambers, but there is one area in which they did not find.' Gandalf dismounted Shadowfax, and he gazed up at the great Ent. 'It is powerful,' he informed, 'and ancient beyond reckoning.'

'Then proceed inside and find this item.' There the Wizard proceeded inside the Tower of Orthanc, and left the two Hobbits outside in the company of Treebeard. The Ent knelt down lower to see to them. 'Little hobbits, _Baahhruuumm,_' he said. 'It is lovely to see you both once again.'

'And you to,' said Meriadoc, dismounting his pony. Peregrin copied. As he did, he gazed in awe at the surroundings of Isengard; for it was no longer a heavily industrialised fortress teeming with malevolent Orcs, but was breathing with life once again.

He smiled. 'I see that you all have done a great job of flourishing this place.'

Treebeard nodded. 'It took a while but now it is alive as a beautiful garden. Welcome, _Baahhruuumm,_ to the Treegarth of Isengard.'

'And it is most splendid,' said Merry. 'As Pippin said you've done a fantastic job.'

'It was best than to keep this Ring in the depravity it had recieved under that treacherous wizard.'

'I agree,' said Pippin. Then Treebeard lumbered towards the lake surrounding the Tower, and the Hobbits followed. Treebeard peered back at them, and he sighed.

'To think, Master Hobbits, that this would not have happened, _Baahhruuumm,_ if you had not told us to take back Isengard.'

'Well, I'm sure you wouldn't like Saruman's servants hacking away at the rest of your forest now, would you?' said Merry, walking towards him. Treebeard shook his great head slowly.

'No, Master Meriadoc, I would not.'

As Merry and Treebeard were engaged then into a conversation, a shadow fell upon Pippin, and he gazed around the beautiful gardens with grief. All that was green, all that was coloured, and all that was beautiful, may fall into the great destruction of the creeping Shadow. Pippin sighed, and there he called to his cousin; beckoning to him. Excused from speaking to Treebeard, the hobbit approached his despaired appearing friend.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Do you suppose Treebeard knows?' said Pippin.

'Knows what?'

He did not answer straightly, but murmured: 'Well... _that_.'

Befuddled, all Merry did was stare blankly. It was only a moment later when it crossed his mind, courtesy to the vague hints from his cousin. Then the Hobbit frowned, and he shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know,' he said. 'Maybe...'

'But he seems content,' said Peregrin, gazing back at the Ent. 'Maybe he doesn't know what is at stake.'

'Then we'd best not bring him despair by telling,' said Merry.

'Shouldn't he be warned?'

'Hm, maybe we should let Gandalf decide,' and then ending the conversation he returned to Treebeard's company, leaving Pippin standing with a shadowed mind. As he stood observing his friend, smiling, hiding behind the darkness, he glowered, believing in some way that the hobbit was apathetic to the circumstances, or deliberately avoiding the ill thoughts of an apocalypse. Not even the vibrant flowers managed to brighten his mood, for all Pippin could think of constantly was the beauty perishing and the world ending.

_It cannot come to pass_, he thought, and then gazing towards the entrance of Orthanc he proceeded inside without the others knowing, and he began a search for Gandalf through the circular and obscure chambers of the Tower.

. . .

Inside a small yet rounded hall the Wizard paced around; gallivanting in and out of different rooms. As he did, he then came towards a doorway delved within the black stone, similar to the style of the Door of Durin outside of the Mines of Moria. _A dwarf opened this_, he thought, and he suggested that the dwarf Gimli had accompanied Aragorn in the rummaging of the Tower. As he passed on through, he saw emptied containers: chests, crates and cabinets plundered of old contents.

'He has recovered the treasures,' he said then, implying Aragorn.

Continuing the search for the Shard, he opened every chest and investigated every crate, but all were empty. Here the Wizard began to think that perhaps the Shard was recovered by Aragorn and was taken to Minas Tirith, but then he suggested that the King may have not known what the Crystal may have been; just an ordinary, broken gemstone with dull light.

'It must be here,' he said, becoming rather irritated. 'I am positive it is.'

The Wizard's patience was thinning, and now hasty and determined he searched every corner and rummaged through everything he could see within his sight. When he had examined through every container, he sighed. 'It is not here...' he said, his voice mingled with fury, despair and stress. _What am I to do?_

At that moment, he heard the faint echo of footsteps trailing throughout the halls. Awaiting to see who it was he faced the doorway. There then appeared from around the corner Peregrin, and weakly he smiled at Gandalf. The Wizard returned no such amity. 'What are you doing here, Peregrin Took?' he snapped. 'I wished for you to wait outside.'

Slightly shaken by the Wizard's temper, the Hobbit timidly stepped back. 'I wanted to see,' he stammered, 'wanted to see if you had found the Shard.'

'I have had no such luck,' he replied.

'It is not here?' said the Hobbit dismayed, and his despair grew greater.

'I think not,' said Gandalf. 'I have practically plundered these entire chambers, but I have seen no sign of the Shard.'

'Perhaps I can help?' Pippin's voice was nothing more than a whisper.

'Peregrin, there is no sign of it,' answered the Wizard. 'You will not find it, for it does not lay here.'

Aggravated by Gandalf's diminishing hope, the Hobbit stepped forth boldly. 'But it must be!' cried Pippin. 'It could not have magically vanished. Have you searched every single chamber?'

'Yes,' said Gandalf.

'But you said it was here-'

'Then I was wrong!' barked Gandalf, and the Hobbit recoiled in minor fear; decreasing Pippin's boldness. They said nought to each other for many moments, and they did not look at one another either. The Wizard, somberly, left the room, brushing past the Hobbit. But Pippin stood firm and watched the Wizard sit down upon a bench behind him; hand running though his snowy white hair. The pessimism that had now passed onto Gandalf, caused more gloom to delve deeper into the Hobbit's sorrowed heart and fearful mind. Looking back inside the secret chamber, he scanned it with its eyes, and then he entered.

Here Pippin investigated every detail with both sight and hand, and even looked behind objects and within hard-to-reach areas in which the Wizard may not have managed to search through. Due to his small stature it benefited the Hobbit's search. As he reached a rather large cabinet, he gazed into the dark behind it, and squeezed his hand through. There he felt a draft, and his finger traced a ridge in the stone. He wondered what it was, and then with all his might he pushed aside the cabinet.

To his utmost surprise, there was a hidden door within the stone. Smiling, and hope lifting, he called to Gandalf. The wizard arose solemnly and entered the room. At an instant his eyes fell upon the hidden door, and he smiled at Pippin. 'Brilliant, Peregrin!' he said merrily. 'A hidden closet. Then the others did not find this.'

'Luck is on our side, then?' said Pippin.

'Well, we shall see when we open it,' and there tracing for the handle he opened the closet door.

Inside a very small room, against the wall nestling within a pedestal was the object they sought. The mirth that ensued within Gandalf was voluminous, and he patted Pippin on the back. 'Perhaps it was a good idea to have you by my side after all, Peregrin Took,' and he entered into the small chamber.

'I suppose you are glad now that you did not turn us aside?' said Pippin smugly.

'Definately,' replied the Wizard.

'Now that we have found the fourth Shard where are we to head to next?'

'To Edoras,' said Gandalf.

Pippin smiled. 'I cannot wait. But do you know where the fifth Shard lies?'

'I have a vague idea,' said the Wizard, picking up the Shard and placing it within his robes.

'Vague isn't very good,' said Pippin. 'I mean you knew the specific areas in which the others were, didn't you?'

'Basically,' he answered. 'I know only that it may be near Ithilien.'

'Ithilien?'

'The region beside of Mordor,' said Gandalf, and leaving the room he shut the closet doors, and then placed the cabinet in front. The wizard gave another smile to Pippin. 'Ill fortune?' the wizard demurred. 'I would not say so. Meriadoc is right; a klutz, but not ill fortune.'

'A fool of a Took?' smiled the Hobbit.

'You have your moments,' the Wizard laughed, and together they left the Tower.

. . .

As they returned outside into the Treegarth, they met back up with Merry and Treebeard. The Ent lumbered towards them both. 'Did you obtain what you sought?'

'I did,' said Gandalf. 'But I would not have if it were not for Master Peregrin here.' Pippin, smug, but timidly, smiled.

Merry rose an eyebrow. 'Would you not have now?'

'Indeed not, Meriadoc,' said Gandalf. 'Now we must depart,' and with that the Wizard bid farewell to Treebeard, and proceeded towards Shadowfax.

The Hobbits stalled for a moment, and then the Ent lowered. 'Now we bid farewell, Master Hobbits, _Baahhruuumm_; for this may be the last time that we meet.' Pippin's despair flowed back at this, and by last he wished not for it to be an ill final farewell. But Merry, less melancholy than his cousin, bid farewell also.

'That may be so,' he said. 'It was lovely to meet you again, Treebeard. I hope you and the others live a long life in serenity,' and with that, he advanced towards the ponies, leaving Pippin and Treebeard by themselves.

The Ent's gaze fell onto Pippin. 'Do not fret, Master Peregrin,' he said; 'for even if this is the final goodbye, with hope on our side, _Baahhruuumm,_ this goodbye may not be one of departure.'

'What do you mean?' asked the Hobbit.

'Gandalf holds an enchanted stone. The hope is still there. Farewell, Peregrin,' and with that Treebeard left him be.

'Pippin!' called Merry.

'Yes?' he replied.

'We are ready to leave.'

'O, of course,' and he walked towards them and mounted his pony. He looked at Gandalf. 'To Edoras?'

'To Edoras,' he said.

Merry smiled. 'To Edoras.'


	12. Edoras

**A/N: **Sorry for another long wait. Here's the next chapter, and surprisingly it's pretty long. I hope you enjoy it:**  
**

**

* * *

CHAPTER XI**

**Edoras**

After acquiring the fourth Shard, the trio had arrived in rolling plains and ranges of Rohan; Home of the Horselords, and under the dominion of the Rohirrim. The grasslands seemed within the distance to be neverending, save only for the faint sight of great snow-tipped mountains bordering from the south. As vast and expansive as the Kingdom of Rohan was, the journey across the rigid and elevated lands were quicker than they had come to expect. Although a couple of days had passed before they reached their destination, the Shadow was still far from the borders of the West of Middle-earth; but if time wanes, it could crawl faster and become more deadlier than one would know.

It had been two months since they had set out from Crickhollow, and now they were come forth from Eriador into Rhovanion. Their trail directed southwestward towards the hill-town of Edoras; abode of King Éomer and of the Lady Éowyn. Meriadoc's mirth was great to think of the reunion he was to have with them, whereas Peregrin's was greater with those of Minas Tirith. The Wizard could see plainly their eagerness and their glee to return to the lands which were but a memory to them, and it appeared from the light in their eyes their apprehension of the Shadow of the East was diminished, but it would never become erased from Gandalf's mind. Trekking through the grasslands, far within the distance Gandalf could make out a travelling host of Horsemen nigh over two miles from where they were located. A smile curled at the corner of his lips, and he saw that the host were coming swiftly towards them. It was only when they were visibly sighted that the Hobbits' eyes fell upon them.

'Who is that?' asked Peregrin, squinting to focus on the speedy column.

'Riders of Rohan, of course,' answered Gandalf.

'Are they here to greet us?' asked Meriadoc.

Gandalf chuckled. 'To see to us, at least,' and he bid Shadowfax to halt. There the Hobbits copied by tugging the reins of their ponies, and they awaited the coming of the Rohirrim.

The ground underneath the steed's hooves rumbled like thunder, and the great Riders circled the trio as they came swifter than an eagles soring through the heavens. As the anonymous Riders surrounded the trio, they did not aim their spears at them. Recognising the White Rider, they were hospitable. Then a section of the ring broke, and opening a passage a Rider clad in magnificent armour embellished with golds, greens and silvers approached the company, wielding a thin pike and wearing a horse-hair helmet, shadowing the face of who trotted towards them. As his proud steed halted, the Rider glanced at the three in turn, and lastly his gaze fell upon Gandalf. He smiled. 'Gandalf,' he greeted in a friendly tone. 'It has been a long time since we last met.'

'Erkenbrand,' greeted the Wizard back, and he unmounted Shadowfax.

Erkenbrand copied, and there they stood and smiled. 'We were curious as to what that speckle of white was amongst the horizon,' he said. 'And now it makes sense: the White Rider has returned to the Mark.'

'Only for a short while,' said Gandalf. 'But we are come to see to the King.'

'We?' then Erkenbrand saw to the Hobbits sitting upon their ponies. 'Holbytla,' he proclaimed then. 'We have not seen one of these folk since the War of the Ring. And I deem that one of you is well known as once the Esquire of Rohan, am I correct?'

Merry smiled. 'Aye, you are.'

'You are most welcome,' said Erkenbrand. 'I shall escort you to Edoras as swiftly as we may. The King shall be pleased to meet your acquaintance once again.' He ascended his horse, and beckoned for the host to let open the passage for the company. As Gandalf mounted back onto his majestic steed, he, the Hobbits and the Riders made a move to proceed hastily across the Mark and arrive at the Golden Hall of Meduseld.

The sun had climbed to its peak in the skies, and at this hour the Riders and the trio saw closing in on the horizon the isolated hill-town of Edoras; beckoning their coming from afar. As the Riders came at the Gate, Erkenbrand advanced towards Gandalf and said: 'Here we have escorted you swiftly to Edoras. May your stay be well,' and with a command he and the Riders of Rohan sought a new destination, and they galloped across the plains and disappeared in the neverending distance.

Gandalf glanced at the Hobbits. 'Here we are,' he said. 'Let us advance inside.'

As they ascended the hilly path towards the Golden Hall, the peoples of Edoras stood in awe at their coming, as though they had drifted back into memory at the coming of the White Rider (or who they assumed then the Grey Pilgrim). As they came forth at the stone steps leading up to Meduseld, the trio dismounted their steeds, and they were escorted to the stables nearby. They escalated the steps, and as they approached facade of the Hall, a company of the King's Men appeared from the doors. 'Who comes forth towards the Doors of Meduseld?' asked the Leader of the company.

'Old friends,' answered Gandalf with a grin on his face.

'Old friends?' asked the Leader ambiguously, but laying eyes upon the Hobbits he made a nod. 'Very well, then. You may proceed inside.' And that they did.

As once the Hall was dimmed during the 'sickness' of King Théoden, it was alight and welcoming with a glowing warmth. Alinged alongside the side were the King's Guards, and there sitting upon the throne sat Éomer. Once his eyes were lain upon the White Rider, he mirth was boundless. 'Gandalf!' he greeted. 'I had not expected to meet you again,' and then his gaze swiftly turned to see the Halflings at his side. His smile grew greater. 'Meriadoc and Peregrin! Such a wonderous reunion.' The Hobbits bowed to the King of Rohan. Promptly Éomer arose from his throne and greeted the trio welcomely with an embrace.

'Hail, Éomer King,' proclaimed Gandalf. 'I come with tidings.'

'Tidings?' asked Éomer, 'What sort of tidings? And from where?'

The expression on Gandalf's face altered grim. 'I must speak to you in private,' he whispered darkly. 'It is urgent, and King Elessar of Gondor must also be informed. I do not come to cause turmoil, but it is best that one should be warned, for we may need strength against this.'

The smile upon Éomer's face faded, and his face became stern. 'What news do you bring me?'

'Let us proceed somewhere quiet,' he said.

Éomer nodded. 'Of course,' then his attention turned to the Hobbits, and the smile that was stolen from his lips had returned. 'The Folk of the Shire are most welcome here; for you both performed valiant deeds those years ago.'

'It is lovely to see you once again, Lord Éomer,' said Merry.

'It is an honour,' said Peregrin, and they both bowed.

'Such courtesy,' he laughed. He turned to face Merry. 'The Lady Éowyn is here, and I shall tell the men to call for her,' he beckoned to some of the Guards posted to his left, and with a bow they left the Hall in search for the Lady. The King turned to face Gandalf, and his anxiety arose within his heart. 'Let us proceed,' he said, and they left the Hall and into one of the chambers located to their right.

The Halfings advanced to make themselves comfortable for their short stay here under the roof of Meduseld. Shuffling their packs from their back they trotted over to the side of the Hall where a table was lain. They spoke not, but as they glanced at eachother they shared quick smiles.

A moment later, the Guard that was ordered to find Éowyn was come, and behind him she stood; golden haired and clad in an elegent emerald dress adorned with gems; coloured in golds. As she entered the Hall, Merry instantly saw her approach, and his gaiety was alight within his eyes. 'My Lady!' he called.

Éowyn turned promptly to the source of the voice, and to her amazement and mirth she saw there her old Halfing friend. She smiled. 'Merry,' she said, gliding towards them from the centre of the Hall. 'It is wonderful to see you again.'

'And to you to,' he smiled, and somewhat reluctantly, and slightly timidly he bowed to her.

Éowyn laughed, and her laugh rang across the four walls of the Hall. 'There is no need to bow,' she said, and instead she knelt down and embraced him in a friendly grasp. As their embrace ended, she looked to Pippin. 'Would you like one too, Master Peregrin?'

As Pippin had somewhat been floating in a reverie, to her question he starred blankly. 'O, um, it is quite alright,' he stammered.

Merry jumped up onto the bench alongside the table and peered up at Éowyn as she arose. 'How have you been, my Lady?'

'I have been well, thank you, Master Merry,' then her thought wandered elsewhere. 'Where is my brother?'

'King Éomer has left to speak to Gandalf privately,' informed Pippin.

Éowyn's face altered into wonderment. 'Gandalf is here?'

'Yes,' said Merry. 'He came back somewhat over a two months ago. I met him by chance gallivanting near the borders of the Old Forest in the Shire. A chance-meeting, and a great one at that.'

'Is there a reason to his return?' she said. 'For him to return to this area of Middle-earth it must be important.'

'Aye,' said Pippin darkly. 'It is.'

'I wish to know of what it may be.'

'I am not sure if we are prohibited to say,' said Merry unsurely. 'Perhaps when he returns he will inform you too.'

'Hm,' was all Éowyn let out upon her lips, but after a moment's silence that waned for too long, she spoke. 'Is this your only destination you are to ride to?'

'No,' answered Pippin, 'we are also heading to Minas Tirith.'

'To speak to the king?' she asked.

Merry nodded. 'To speak to Aragorn.'

Pippin arose his head to peer at the Lady. 'Do you know of how Faramir has been lately? How have you both been?'

Éowyn made a warm smile. 'We have been well, thank you. I have not seen him for a week though, alas, the Lord Aragorn has set him a task lately.'

'What task may that be?' asked Pippin curiously.

'He was sent to search around Ithilien for something,' she said. There Pippin's attention was fixated upon the name of the land that she had mentioned. Ithilien. He knew of what precious stone abode in those once desolated lands; whether they had replenished back to their flourishing beauty was uncertain to the Hobbits, but being the next-door neighbour of Mordor it was unlikely.

As the Hobbit snapped out of his wandering thoughts, he made a response to Éowyn's information. 'Ithilien? What was he sent to Ithilien for exactly?'

'I know not,' she replied. 'I have heard news of enemy forces that still roam in the Morgul Vale, but they have no stronghold within that valley for Minas Morgul was demolished over a year ago.'

'It was demolished?' exclaimed Merry.

'Gondor still seeks to rid the area of any tainted structure or creature. They attempted an assault on Cirith Ungol a while back but they did not succeed. Orcs still prowl the Morgul Pass. They are not yielding to the Gondorian Army as easy as we had hoped. Their numbers are expanding once again.'

'Orcs still live?' asked Pippin. 'I thought they were all gone after Sauron's defeat.'

Éowyn shook her head slowly. 'No, Master Pippin, not yet,' she sighed. 'Even if their Master is defeated some still seek to defend theirselves against Gondor and Ithilien. Many may have fled as far as they could before they had been hunted and slain, but others still abide in the borders of Mordor. Cirith Ungol is still their primary fortress.'

'So is Faramir's mission to cleanse the pass of the Orcs?' asked Merry.

'I reckon so,' she answered. 'And of whatever he has been tasked to search for I heard the Lord Aragorn wishes it not to fall into the enemy's hands.'

Pippin's brow furrowed as he sank back in thought. _Does Aragorn know of the Shard? _he thought to himself. _Maybe he does, unless it is some other object he seeks. Perhaps Gandalf will know when he returns. _After another moment of deep thinking he had not noticed how long he had been lost in a reverie. Merry and Éowyn were engaged in a conversation for a matter of minutes, speaking of how the land of Rohan has been in the passing years. Soon later Gandalf and Éomer returned into the hall with grim expressions upon their faces. The mirth that had been present within the king's eyes had perished as a shadow glazed over them, and his face was pale. Pippin felt the same angst as he, and the foreboding and morbid scenarios of the distant future penetrated his mind once again. He tried to shake them away, but they still remained; their teeth sinking deeper into his thoughts. He turned to face his cousin and Éowyn, and they had smiles upon their faces. It baffled Peregrin to think that Meriadoc seemed to have little fear against the Shadow, that somehow he was masking it, or he was making the most of the happiness that remained before it was to disappear forever.

Then Gandalf and Éomer came over to join them. 'Afternoon, my Lady,' greeted Gandalf to Éowyn.

'Lovely to see you once again, Gandalf,' she smiled. 'If you wish, I shall prepare you meals if you are to stay?'

'We are staying for the night, yes,' answered Gandalf as he sat on the bench beside Pippin.

'Very well, we shall cook a fine feast for your staying,' and with that she left the hall. Éomer did not join them, and instead he left the hall at another entrance, and as he walked Pippin observed he seemed stiff and tense. The anxiety had befallen the king.

'Are we to ride for Minas Tirith tomorrow, Gandalf?' asked Merry then.

'Yes, we are,' he answered.

Merry turned his gaze to his seemingly troubled cousin. He gathered his grief, for his eyes met the table and his body drooped. Merry harrumphed. 'Come on, Pip,' he said in a lively tone, 'cheer up; we are having a feast in a while. We haven't had a proper meal since Bree.'

'Hm,' he mumbled.

The Hobbit rolled his eyes. 'Lighten up! It's not all bad.'

At that Pippin's eyes arose and glowered into Merry's, and he scowled. 'Oh no, nothing is bad,' he said wryly. 'Nothing bad is to come and nobody feels bad in anyway. All is joyful. All is merry like you; only, is it a false merriment you have?'

Gandalf appeared surprised by Peregrin's venomous words, and the reply of Merry's face was the exact same. 'Are you alright, Peregrin?' asked the Wizard with concern.

'I...' he paused for a moment, and then he sighed. 'I need some fresh air,' he said, and then he arose and made his way to the Hall's main doors. Merry's expression seemed hurt, and masquarading the damage he covered it with a frown.

'His mind is lost in shadow,' he said to Gandalf. 'Is King Éomer's also?'

The Wizard nodded. 'He is. The pessimism is stronger within Pippin than I deemed it to be. I will see to him-'

'No,' said Merry, and he arose. 'I will,' and he left.

Outside it was windy, and the flags fluttered and wavered in the breeze. The fires upon the brazier flickered and danced from the eastern wind, and it whistled an unearthly tune. As it passed Peregrin's ears, it felt like a darkened whisper brimming with malice. The Hobbit shivered, and he sat down upon the edge of the steps, gazing northward out into the plains. He heard light footsteps upon the wind, and he saw then a pair of furry bare feet halt beside of him. He grimaced to himself, and turned his head away.

'Pippin?' asked Merry. Peregrin made no reply. Merry lowered himself and sat beside him. 'Pippin, please turn to see me.'

'What for?' he answered in a passive tone.

'So I don't have to talk to the back of your head.' With a sigh, Pippin turned to face his cousin. A small smile curled at the corner onf Merry's lips. 'There we go. Look, I understand that you're upset, and that I wasn't helping. I thought I was but-'

'You thought?' snapped Pippin.

'I _know _I was upsetting you, trying to be all optimistic. Usually optimism helps, you know, to try and forget about everything.'

'But is it a healthy thing to do? To mask away all the real emotions?'

He thought for a moment, and then shook his head. 'I realise now that, no it's not. But I thought it would help. I didn't mean to upset you, Pip, you know I wouldn't mean to. I don't mean to. Since when was the last time I intentionally wished to upset you? I never wish to, I never want to. I'm sorry.'

'I know,' said Pippin.

'I know in some way I am covering the fear, the sorrow, the anxiety by acting all lively. No it's not the best thing to do, but neither is falling under its shadow. At least try to feel as though there is hope, huh? Remember what you said to me back at Rivendell? About trying to find that hope when you feel all is hopeless? It really helped. If you didn't say that to me, I probably would have turned back home. You're not losing the hope are you?' Pippin shrugged his shoulders. Merry continued. 'Shrugging isn't a helping sign. We hardly ever have disputes, and we ever rarely lash out at eachother. We didn't during the War of the Ring. We may have believed the fight against Sauron and Saruman was hopeless, but we still believed. Then let us believe that we can defeat this Shadow, and not let it succumb us to despair and break such a strong friendship.'

At that, Pippin nodded slowly, and the poison that was held against his cousin had soothed. 'Right,' he said at length. 'You're right.'

'I know,' and he grinned.

'Don't get cocky,' said Pippin with a smile.

After a pause, Merry sighed, and it was a joyful one. 'So, are we alright again? Are you going to come back inside for a glorious feast? Think of what there will be! It'll be delicious.'

'Indeed it will,' and he rose to his feet. Merry copied. 'Shall we proceed?'

'Aye,' said Meriadoc, and they returned inside.

After an hour their feast was prepared for them upon the tables, and the aroma filled the Hall, and it made the Hobbits realise how empty their stomachs were. Forgetting about the dispute earlier, they were engrossed in filling themselves with whatever they could lay their hands on. Gandalf watched them enjoy themselves, having a laugh as though it were a scene back in the Shire, and let them lose themselves deep in mirth and merriment.

Éomer sat on his throne, attempting small smiles, but within his mind was engulfed in the obscurity and the apprehension that Gandalf had informed him of. Sharing glances with his people he saw them beam and grin and laugh within the hall along with the music playing sweet melodies in the background. But the warm atmosphere and the refreshing ambiance could not lift his spirits from the vaults of shadows. It was impossible, he deemed, that there was no way now upon hearing of Dae that the darkness would pass like a gust of wind.

After the feast was over, the Hobbits were escorted into a chamber where they were to sleep for the night. As the sun went down and the skies were veiled and the moon came to replace for the night a guiding lamp, Meduseld was emptied save for only a handful of people. Gandalf remained in the Hall speaking to Éowyn and Éomer; for now the Lady was told, and alas her spirits sank like the sun behind the mountains, however they may not arise again for a warm spring morning.

As the Halfings readied themselves for slumber until their travel the next morning, Pippin, laying upon his bed, starred up at the ceiling. 'You know earlier that Lady Éowyn spoke of Faramir travelling to Ithilien to obtain something?'

'Yes?' replied Merry, laying out his bedding.

'I may know what it is.'

Then Meriadoc stopped, and he turned to see Pippin. 'You do?'

'Yes,' he nodded, and his eyes met his. 'I reckon it may be the Shard.'

'How do you know this?'

'Gandalf told me back at Isengard,' he said. 'He informed me that it may be located in Ithilien.'

'How does he even know where these Shards lie?'

'He must have been told back in the Undying Lands,' presumed Pippin.

'That would make sense. What if the Orcs have obtained it?'

He shrugged. 'Then I do not know. Maybe the Orcs don't realise what it is.'

Merry's face turned dark. 'But what if they do?' he asked grimly.

'Then what would they want with it?'

'To cast away the shadow?'

'Would that make sense?' asked Pippin.

'I have no idea,' answered Merry. 'Maybe it isn't even the Shard.'

'Or maybe it is and Faramir has found it. If he has it would be brought back safe to Minas Tirith, right?'

'Could be,' replied Merry flatly.

'You seem uncertain,' said Pippin, noticing the passive tone within his cousin's voice.

'I am as uncertain as you are,' he responded. 'I do not know. We will know tomorrow once we get to Minas Tirith.'

'Will we arrive tomorrow or the next day?'

'I don't know, now let us sleep. I'm exhausted after earlier,' and crawling under his sheets he closed his eyes and sighed. 'Goodnight, Pip.'

'Goodnight,' he replied, although he did not go to sleep. He remained awake as his eyes could handle before the lids closed over, musing of memories and future events. _Do not think of it, _he ordered himself. _Do not. _And banishing the despair from his mind with force he tucked himself within his bed, and he finally let his eyes rest until morning light.

* * *

**A/N: **Honestly, I'm not going to bother saying that the next chapter will be up next week when it probably won't, but I will say that it will definately be up sometime this month. :)


	13. Reunion at the White City

**CHAPTER XII**

**Reunion at the White City**

Waking up to a golden sunrise uplifted the halfling's moods greatly, having much rather preferring it to the blandness of a pale dawn which their eyes had incessantly laid upon since their departure. They wished not to separate from their beds, for it was the first time since Crickhollow that they felt the warm softness of a mattress and a feathered pillow. But the day was waning, and they had to leave for Gondor.

Changing into their garments the hobbits left their chambers and came to reunite with the others within the main hall. Gandalf was again speaking inaudibly to Éomer - hands behind his back and without his ashen cloak. Éowyn was not in attendance; only they and the guards that stood motionlessly at the sides and front of the hall. As Gandalf caught sight of the two somnolent hobbits, he smiled. 'It is nice to see you both up early and refreshed.'

'It was one of the best sleeps I've had in a long time,' said a yawning Pippin.

'I can't agree more,' said Merry, and he stretched his limbs.

Éomer approached them. 'It is a shame that we are to be parted once again, Master Hobbits; however, I am sure this will not be our final meeting.'

'I hope not either,' whispered Pippin sadly, still disturbed by the visions.

'Have you packed everything?' asked Gandalf.

The hobbits nodded. 'Yes, everything's packed,' answered Merry.

'Then we leave this moment,' and turning he clasped his staff from beside the pillar and cast his cloak over him.

The hobbits' expressions became that of such befuddlement. 'What about breakfast?' asked Pippin curiously.

'Eat what you have in your packs; Éomer has offered up a great quantity of food ready for your journey to Minas Tirith. We need to move quickly, so apologies if you're hungry.'

Merry's stomach rumbled angrily, and Pippin sighed with such dismay. The king smiled amusedly at them. 'You can have food shortly, my friends,' he laid a hand on both their shoulders. 'The ponies are ready for your departure.'

'I wish to say farewell to the Lady Éowyn before we leave,' requested Meriadoc.

Éomer nodded. 'Of course, she will be with us shortly to see you out.'

Merry grinned, 'Great,' and he sauntered over to a bench at the side of the hall. Pippin followed hesitantly, and trotting over he overheard faintly the muffled voices of the King and the wizard behind him, taking in only minor information:

'… After the spring passes… the east… rally... cavalry… make the time… best wishes... friend…' was all he could make out.

He slumped down, his toes brushing the ground. He witnessed the conclusion of their dialogue, which left a grim look swathed upon the King's face. With a quick bob of their heads, they departed from each other; Gandalf hobbling towards the doors, and Éomer disappearing through one of the exits.

'What do you think they were talking about?' whispered Merry cautiously, titling his head closer to his cousin.

'Isn't it obvious?' said Pippin deprecatingly. 'You _know _what's happening in the east.'

He mumbled. 'Do you reckon he's preparing an army to fight it?'

Pippin puffed out a cynical laugh. 'Men can't fight shadow, Merry. It'll be like slashing mist with a blade - completely ineffective.'

'How do you know that this isn't just any ordinary cloud of darkness?' he asked. 'I mean, it may be a spirit, after all. What Gandalf told us back at Crickhollow; it can't just be a black sandstorm.'

Shooting a sideways glance at Merry, Pippin examined his sudden curiosity. 'Why has it suddenly become so important to you?' he asked warily. 'I thought I was the one to ask these sorts of questions.'

'You still can be,' he replied. 'Though you're the one more interested in what this thing can do. _I'm _interested in what _we _are doing about it.'

Pippin's brows furrowed. 'You _know _what we're doing: we're finding the crystals. Gandalf said that's the only way it can be stopped.'

'Then _why _is Gandalf asking King Éomer for assistance?'

Pippin hesitated suddenly. Why was he? Clearly mortals had no power to conquer such an entity. Do the Rohirrim have a hidden tactic into weakening it? Is this why the wizard wishes to proceed to Minas Tirith, to ask Aragorn for aid also? He couldn't find an answer to this enquiry. He knew not himself.

Merry pulled a triumphant smile. 'Exactly,' he whispered sharply, 'if the crystals are so powerful why do we need support from the kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan?'

Pippin stammered, thinking. 'Err; perhaps they're helping us look for it?'

'Hmm,' mumbled the hobbit, seemingly doubtful to Pippin's query.

'Then again, I know as much as you do…'

At that moment, Lady Éowyn appeared near the right hand top corner of the hall, her eyes searching fervently. Merry called to her, and instantly a warm beam crossed her face, and she advanced towards them.

'You are to leave, are you not?' she asked them as they both hopped off the bench. 'I have provided food for your venture to Minas Tirith,' she informed.

'Your hospitality has been most welcoming,' said Pippin, bowing to her.

The smile from her face fell as she creased her brows. 'If you happen to see, or at least hear, from Faramir-,'

'We'll tell him the Lady of Rohan misses him dearly,' said a smirking Merry.

Éowyn beamed delightedly. 'That is most kind of you, Master Merry-,'

The conversation was abruptly interrupted by Gandalf, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere as though the transparent air crafted his form beside them. It seemed to have startled the hobbits quite a little, however, Éowyn flinched not. The wizard cleared his throat. 'The ponies are ready for our departure, Meriadoc and Peregrin. It is best we leave without delay.'

'O, yes, of course,' said Pippin, still slightly alarmed by the unexpectedness of Gandalf's return. He made a swift bow to the Lady, and hobbled over towards the Great Hall's entrance.

'Prepare your farewell, Meriadoc,' said Gandalf, 'we leave at once,' and robes flapping as he turned he proceeded speedily to the door.

Timidly, Merry twitched a friendly smile. 'I hope to see you again, my Lady,' a sense of sadness was lingering on his voice, 'I gravely do.'

Éowyn's smile responded to his despairing, and her eyes accompanied it. 'We will, Merry,' she said hopefully, and she sighed, 'we most certainly shall see each other again.'

'You are too optimistic,' chuckled a nervous Meriadoc, 'Pippin keeps saying that's just deceit.'

She shook her head in disagreement. 'No, I am deceiving myself not; I _do _believe that all will turn out well in the end, as do you.' And concluding their dialogue with a lengthily embrace, the hobbit bowed low to her, and scurried - turning back to wave only – towards the door, where he, Pippin and Gandalf disappeared through…

'Mount your ponies, my lads,' ordered Gandalf once they entered the stables. 'The journey to Minas Tirith will be tiresome, and we cannot afford to delay.'

Opening the stable door to greet their ponies the hobbits began to fasten their provisions onto the saddle. The thought of returning to the great White City was thrilling, and the vision of seeing the Tower of Ecthelion peer over the hilltops of the west filled their little hearts with splendour. How much would have changed during these passing years? Will the city be as they remembered? Excitement was bubbling, and they assertively showed it, displaying such eagerness to mount their ponies and be off toward the Eastfold. Gandalf clearly saw it, and he let out a quiet chuckle of amusement.

'Minas Tirith,' said Merry dreamily, 'it feels so surreal to think that we will be returning. It's very much surreal now being reacquainted with everyone here in Edoras. It's as though we never left for home; as though we've been out among these lands all these years.'

'Perhaps so,' said Gandalf as he ascended onto Shadowfax, 'but much has changed, Meriadoc, as I have said before. Remember, my lads, we're on a mission. Remember to keep focused on what we must do.'

'We?' said Pippin as he fastened the last of the bags onto his pony. 'You're beginning to see this as _our _mission, not yours?'

'Well, of course, this is _my _mission. But we are all intertwined in the same fate. It is all our mission, for those that wish it to be so.'

This left Pippin musing in silence for a good while, but Merry persisted in muttering absent-minded twaddle to himself. Gandalf paid no heed, and once he was seated on the stallion he began to leave, with the ponies following close behind.

Out they galloped down the streets of Edoras, passing the fascinated citizens on the way by. Within no time they were outside the gates, out onto the plains, leaving behind the city of Edoras, which gradually faded in the horizon behind them until it was entirely vanished by the ascension of the hills.

The wind wailed past their ears and danced with their hair as they dashed swifter than a rapid stream across the plains of Rohan. The White Mountains loomed in the distance, their snow-kissed peaks stroking the bottom of the clouds. The sky was dazzlingly blue and the sun splendid and warm. It would make one disregard the thought of danger which was creeping its way closer every second from the east. It would make one believe that danger existed no longer.

The grasslands seemed perpetually present. In every direction the olive green fields swathed the earth, save for the column of peaks standing proudly in the south. They remained in following the road and strayed not from the path. Wandering away from the route planned welcomed trouble, and the trio had too many experiences in that field.

After covering many miles the sun began to set in the west, burning the sky brilliantly as it descended. They stopped to make camp for the night in the brushes of the plains. The fields turned ebony in shade and all was veiled in pitch black darkness. Only the small fire of the camp cast back the ravenous shadows. Without much thought of peril, and listening to the soft wind and the hush of the plains the trio fell into a restful sleep that night.

Dawn broke sooner than expected. It was still rather gloomy as only quarter of the sun poked her head out in the east. It was a surprise that the sun still arose in the shadowed east; it was a thought that the star would be consumed first by Dae. It was a relief to know that it was not, but not a relief when dreams took a sinister turn.

Pippin did not sleep as well as he hoped. The terrible visions of darkness whirled constantly in his mind, and red-eyed beasts and cackling monsters terrorised his dreams, tearing away the only sanctuary a person can obtain when they wish to take a rest from reality. Unfortunately it appeared reality was eating its way inside his mind quicker and nastier than the hungriest of wolves. The mark of a nightmare was etched on the hobbit's face: rings underlined his bright eyes, a pasty colour painted his face and his eyelids constantly obstructed his vision. His body seemed to not respond well either, with his mind journeying far from his head and his limbs disobeying their commands.

Merry quickly noticed this odd behaviour, as the hobbit himself suffered minor symptoms of this disorder also. 'Are you feeling all right?' he asked Pippin once they began to leave the camp that morning.

Pippin did not respond quickly as one usually does, and mumbled his answer as though it was difficult to speak. 'I'm very well, thank you,' he uttered almost inaudibly as he put his coat on.

'Yes, I should have known,' said Merry, 'it certainly looks as though you're in good health. Those black rings really bring out the colour of your eyes.'

Pippin seemed to have paid hardly any attention to this sarcastic comment, and so mumbled vaguely in reply, in which Merry responded with raised eyebrows.

The hobbit's disorientated mannerisms brought out more than a morsel of pity for Merry. It was strange to see him acting the way he was: fretting over doomsday and rejecting any offerings of optimism. Was it an odd way to behave to something like this, or was it completely normal? Merry knew very much that he has reacted to the apocalypse with light-hearted indifference, much to the annoyance of his companions. Perhaps his behaviour was the odd one, and Pippin's was expected. It never hurts to hold onto optimism, but maybe Merry was holding on too much. It may be time to let go and fall into the real world once again, and understand that death is not something to laugh about, or something to ignore when it is inevitable to all.

Wicked things nested inside their minds for the remainder of that day. Their minds were too fixated in visualisations rather than focusing on the existent plane their ponies galloped through. They pictured the great White City situated grandly beside the White Mountains; the banners swaying in a warm gust and the sun gleaming upon the blossomed Tree of Gondor. It was such beauty that brought them back from darkness. Their hearts leapt joyfully to know they were returning, to know that they were reliving the pleasant parts of their memories. It hindered any recognition of the Shadow, when magnificence existed before them.

It would take – if they kept the same pace – roughly by sundown to reach the city. There was no stopping; Gandalf had made it clear by the hasting of Shadowfax that reaching Minas Tirith as quickly as possible was vital. The hobbits believed that they had never ridden as fast than when racing across the rolling pastures of fading kingdom of the Horse Lords. The wind was gnawing at their ears and their hair was dynamically flailing across their faces. Even tears began to quiver at the outer corners of their eyes. It was as though they were riding an oncoming hurricane, and in no time they would eventually arrive at the gates of the city.

Only one more hill stood before them and their destination. Ascending higher and higher across the darkening fields the knoll descended beneath the mounts' hooves, and with exhilaration bursting inside the hobbits' bowels, they had reached the top, and gazed out into the sapphire horizon, and the silver-shaded stone walls of Minas Tirith, like a fraction of the cliff thrust out into the paddocks of the Pelennor Fields, and the Tower of Ecthelion surging into the heavens like a lance in the throng.

A flame had kindled like the beacons that were once lit upon the mountain peaks, and the fire blazed with fiery mirth. There was no grin that could match the ones that had formed upon the halflings' faces – the feeling was genuine and deeply moving. It was once here that the legions of Sauron's armies scourged these once green meadows, and yet it seemed that it was unscathed by any depraved thing. Lights were flickering in the city; it was trance-like, as though dozens of will-o-the-wisps called to them, saying that they were here, that it was real.

Interlocked in a trance, the hobbits could do nought but stare. The wizard scanned their awestruck faces with a glint of amusement, and proceeded in snapping them out of their little hypnosis. 'Let us not stay here as though our minds have left us, my lads, we must continue into the city.'

Merry was the first to return to reality. 'I forgot how beautiful this city is,' said he, still seemingly yonder. 'Again I must say: it feels so surreal.'

'Yes, it may do so,' said the wizard, 'but I am not repeating what I said yesterday. Escort the ponies down into the Pelennor and into the city. I wish to be inside before the sun disappears behind us.'

Without any ado, the hobbits and the wizard proceeded down onto the main roads through the Pelennor Fields, snaking their way through the paddocks and hamlets and onto the Gateway leading directly towards the Great Gate. One of the guards must have seen their approach, and once they reached the gate it began to creak open, and they emerged into the courtyard.

Again here, it appeared that everything was intact. Who would have guessed that a siege had taken place in this city, right behind these very walls? A splendid statue was erected in the centre, and behind the propelled cliff of the mountain tapped barely the end of the courtyard. It never really entered the hobbit's mind until now that the Númenóreans did a spectacular job of constructing the Tower of Guard. It was just a shame of what happened to its twin: Minas Morgul, now lying in ruins in the shadow of the Morgul Vale.

The ponies and Shadowfax soared up the levels in the dusk, and each level passed was ascension of the hobbits' thrill. Eventually they had come to the seventh and final level, and came into view of the Citadel; the tower pointing proudly beside the halls. The White Tree bloomed and even in the dark its vibrant blossoms illuminated the area, and the armour of the guards surrounding it; their winged helmets upon their heads and their spears steady as a tree.

Dismounting their steeds the ponies and Shadowfax were then escorted out of the courtyard and down into the stables for rest after their tiresome journey. The wizard seemed ghostly in the dark, and his bright eyes reflected off the lights within the Citadel. Years it has been since here before and now it was to be relived.

'Come, my lads,' said Gandalf, beckoning for the halflings to follow him inside.

'Does Aragorn know that we're here?' asked Pippin as he scurried to the wizard's side.

'I reckon so,' said he; 'one of the guards may have informed him when we arrived at the gate.'

'It feels like a family reunion,' murmured Merry. 'First Edoras, and now Minas Tirith. I wonder who is inside.'

'Aragorn, of course,' said Pippin as-a-matter-of-factly, 'Lady Arwen too.'

'I'd be surprised if any more were here,' said Merry.

'Well, you're just going to have to wait and see,' said Gandalf, and together they entered the Citadel.

Inside the halls were marble white embellished with a touch of navy blue. The statuettes of the previous kings of Gondor aligned the sides of the hall, and in front were rows of columns. Braziers were hanging upon the walls above and beside the pillars, conjuring a warm and hospitable atmosphere. Beyond were two thrones: one beside some steps and one placed atop of them. It was an anticipation to see a majestic king sitting on the silver throne, welcoming the visitors with open arms and a friendly salutation. But that was not what they received, for there was no king seated upon the throne. There was nobody present within the hall save for the wizard, the hobbits and the Citadel guards.

Pippin's heart fell like stone and his face was crossed with befuddlement. 'Where is everyone?'

Merry shrugged his shoulders and Gandalf did not answer. Instead the tiniest trace of a smile curled at the corner of his lips, and a small groan sounded from them. Almost unexpectedly, the wizard spoke in a clear and booming voice: 'My Lord Elessar, usually it is not common for one to be absent from his halls.'

'I am not absent, my friend,' said a voice in reply, which startled the little halflings. From the corner of the hall a man emerged, clothed in such magnificent garments and a silver crown seated upon his head. It was no doubt that this person was familiar, for it felt as though a memory had escaped from their minds. Aragorn made a simply affectionate smile to his former companions, and he chuckled. 'It has been too long, my friends.'

If it were not for a split second of uncertainty the hobbits would have dashed quicker than wind towards the king and hugged him without a care, but instead, seeming much more courteous (even if their tingling bowels protested otherwise) they made a low and chivalrous bow.

Aragorn again chuckled. 'There is no need to bow, Master Hobbits.'

Sharing hesitant glances at one another, Merry and Pippin arose with flushed cheeks and sheepish smiles.

Gandalf laughed echoingly. 'I see that you attempted to surprise us believing that you were not present. It did not fool me.'

Aragorn smiled. 'I think you are, my friend, because I am not the only one in this hall that you have not pointed out as of yet.'

Here memories were absconding wildly, and the hobbits believed that they were hallucinations. Two more people emerged from behind the thrones, and they were familiar also, so familiar it was as though they had always been here. An elf and a dwarf walked out with smiles on their faces, and they joined the king near the foot of the throne.

'I gather that you did not expect to see us again, young hobbits,' said Gimli, laughing gruffly through his bushy beard.

'Contrariwise, I believe that we did not expect to see _them,'_ said Legolas, and he nodded to them chivalrously.

A sack of excitement had burst like fireworks within their bowels that the halflings could have leapt into the air with glee. The inducement was tempting, but was replaced with silly grins. Six members of the former fellowship had rendezvoused coincidently underneath one roof. The hobbits were half expecting Sam and Frodo to emerge from behind the pillars, or for Boromir to stroll in through the doors, however it was then when they realised they were not that blessed, and if they were, they would know for sure they had stumbled into a vision of yearning.

Gandalf even chuckled with merriment. 'Such an unexpected surprise,' he said, 'I say truth when I believed I would not be laying my eyes upon your faces again, old friends.'

'If it were an expected surprise then it would not _be _a surprise, you old fool,' said the dwarf, and he took out a pipe from his garments and began to puff little by little.

'I- I cannot- it can't—,' the hobbits could not form words to describe their unfathomable mirth, and only stumbled word after word, looking like dimwits in front of all.

'O, do hush, young Hobbits,' said the wizard with an edge of amusement.

'Let them express their joys, Mithrandir,' said the elf, 'for they have not seen these parts for many a year. Stammering is an expression.'

'O, of course,' replied the wizard, and he tapped the hobbits' ankles with the base of his staff, breaking their astonishment and ending their stuttering. 'But I prefer a nice silence where I can think than to hear the continuous and unproductive attempts of forming words in the air,' and with that again he knocked Peregrin's lower back, whether it be for personal delight or for retracing the hobbit's former behaviour.

Meriadoc was the first to end his stammering. Concealing his mouth with his fist to cough, the hobbit finally spoke, even if it did still hold the remnants of shock and unsteadiness. 'It - it is an _honour _to meet with all of you once again! An _honour_!' and with that he took a low bow; his curls bouncing off the floor.

'I said before, my dear friends,' said Aragorn, 'that there is no need to bow. Whether it be courteous and of fine conduct, we have known one another for long enough that you should approach me as an acquaintance, master Merry. The same applies to you, master Pippin,' he added once he saw the hobbit bowing also. The smile that had seated itself warmly on the king's lips had begun to diminish, and as it did his eyes strayed upwards and into the wizard's. 'It now comes down to your reason for such an unforeseen arrival,' he said with little warmth and much concern, 'for why you have returned, Gandalf, it must be gravely urgent.'

The wizard grumbled beneath his breath, and nodded in response. '"Gravely" is only a light term, my Lord Elessar. There are dark things at work, and I need to speak with you and you alone,' and with that he gave rapid glances to Legolas and Gimli, which they understood at once, and in response they moved aside (and the hobbits) and let Gandalf and Aragorn divulge on foreboding information.

Aside, the hobbits scampered over to throne's steps, seating themselves at the feet with the elf and the dwarf standing beside. There was little point in eavesdropping on the wizard and the king when they essentially knew the matters, albeit they knew nought of what use Gandalf desired for Aragorn. Like Merry had said to Pippin, there was hardly much of a rationalization for what good use mortals have with something beyond their understanding.

'Such a twist of fate, young hobbits,' said a gleeful Gimli, still puffing on his pipe so implicitly he could commence a competition with the wizard. 'What brings you all the way back to these parts, then?'

The hobbits both shared a swift glance. Merry spoke first. 'You'll have to ask Gandalf,' he said simply, 'we honestly don't know ourselves.' Of course, only half of it was true.

'Were you merely hoping for another escapade?' asked Legolas, a gleeful smile waxing on his face.

'You could say that,' said Pippin, and the hobbits let out a joyous laughter.

'We're never ones to turn down adventures,' added Merry, and yet he could not help but feel a bulky weight press down on his heart. He could not fathom the reason for it.

'No, I suppose not,' said the elf, and for several lengthy minutes the four drew themselves into conversation, and there they began to share stories after their parting several years ago. It was told that Gimli had shepherded a host of dwarves from the Lonely Mountain down into Aglarond, the caves behind Helm's Deep. The hobbits were immensely pleased to hear of his newly found lordship. Legolas had accompanied his dwarven friend to the Glittering Caves, and in return Gimli consorted the elf into Fangorn Forest. It was a wonder to the hobbits of what came of the forest, even though they had met Treebeard within the circle of Isengard, he was a lengthy walk away from the eaves of the woods.

'So little Samwise is mayor, again?' said Gimli with an edge of amusement to his voice.

'Yeah, for the... third time, is it, Pip?'

'Uh, I think so.'

Gimli chuckled. 'It must have been a number of times if you can't even remember.'

'It is well to know that Sam is doing excellently,' said Legolas. 'Quality over quantity, friends.'

'You should tell that to his children,' said Merry quietly, in which Pippin gave him a sharp nudge on his arm, hushing him up instantly.

After a harmony of laughter, the wizard and the king's confidential conversation came to a conclusion. Gandalf and Aragorn both made their way over to see to the hobbits, and quickly the halflings jumped back up onto their feet and took a swift bow to the king.

'All is said,' said Gandalf monotonically, 'and now, we rest.'

'You are both to be escorted to your rooms, master hobbits,' said Aragorn, 'you will be staying for the night and most likely the days following. The Lady Arwen awaits your arrival.'

'We've already been offered rooms?' said a befuddled Meriadoc.

'The rooms were set before we entered,' said the wizard. The hobbits gave each other a baffled glance. 'It had already crossed the king's mind that we would be staying, and he was correct.'

'But I thought we were moving on?' exclaimed Peregrin.

Gandalf returned a hard glare at the hobbit. 'No, not yet. Not until we... until we are ready.'

But the hobbits were already raring to go. It was strange to wonder why Gandalf kept insisting on these brief respites when there was a thousand mile long wall of darkness creeping its way across the land to greet them. In fact it was a miracle to wonder how lightly the matter trailed from their thoughts only to return like a clout to the head. Just how far was it now? How long was it until it reached this region of Middle-earth?

'An escort will guide you to your rooms, master hobbits,' and with that Aragorn beckoned for one the guards beside the doors to usher the halflings out. 'Dinner will be prepared for you very shortly. Make yourself as comfortable as you can.'

'I will be down later to see you both,' said Gandalf, and there was a splinter of severity to his tone, quite similar to ones regarding the Shadow. It was presumably that topic, the hobbits simultaneously believed. 'Remain indoors, and do not go wandering off as you usually do.'


End file.
